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AMETHODIST
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\RMINIUSYOUNG
A METHODIST MISSIONARY
IN LABRADOR
REV. ARMINIUS YOUNG
Missionary to Labrador. (1903-1905)
A Methodist Missionary
in Labrador
BY
THE REV. ARMINIUS YOUNG
Who spent two years in Labrador as a missionary
of the Methodist Church, Canada.
Publishers,
MESSRS. S. AND A. YOUNG.
For Sale By
F. C. Stephenson, Secretary,
The Young People's Forward Movement,
Methodist Mission Rooms,
Toronto.
Copyright, Canada and Newfoundland, 1916.
By Rev. Arminius Young
Introduction
In these days of strife and bloodshed it is good to be
reminded that "peace hath her victories no less re-
nowned than war," and it is inspiring to find that in
the quest of the Kingdom of Heaven men show as much
courage as in the conquest of the earth.
We are looking about in this strenuous time for some
moral equivalent of war to be the battleground of
heroism in the future years.
This modest volume, presented to us by the Rev.
Arminius Young, reveals a field of endeavour where
'heroes are made and cowards are broken. Those who
succeed endure hardships as good soldiers of Jesus
Christ. Of the pioneers some still remain with us, such
as John T. Newman and A. A. Holmes, of the New-
foundland Conference, and Selby Jefferson, now of the
Hamilton Conference.
This book will not only be of great interest on account
of the information it gives of Labrador and the customs
of its people, about which most of us know but little,
but it will also be a spiritual tonic to all who read it.
May its readers not be few.
S. D. CHOWN.
TORONTO, November 21, 1916.
Preface
In sending forth this book to the public, the author
is conscious of many limitations. He lays no claim to
literary merit, but as he has gathered his information
at first hand he hopes that the reader will see in the
following pages a correct picture of Labrador life and
of the work which is being carried on there by the
Methodist Church. This is the first written account of
the work of our Church in Labrador; this justifies send-
ing forth the book and its appeal. The author has tried
to tell the story of his experience on the bleak shore in
a simple and interesting style. How well he has suc-
ceeded the reader must judge for himself.
If this little book gives a better understanding of and
arouses a deeper interest in the people of Labrador, and
in the land itself, which no doubt holds some promise
for the future, the author will be amply rewarded.
My thanks are due Dr. and Mrs. F. C. Stephenson for
preparing the manuscript for the press; to the Rev.
W. T. D. Dunn for reading the first four or five chapters
in manuscript form and offering valuable suggestions;
and to the Revs. A. A. Holmes and Ezra Broughton for
the loan of many of the pictures used in the illustrations.
I send forth the book with a prayer that it may do
good.
ARMINIUS YOUNG.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. LABRADOR AND ITS PEOPLE 1
II. RELIGIOUS INFLUENCES ... 9
III. FIRST METHODIST MISSIONARIES . .21
IV. MY APPOINTMENT . . . .35
V. FIRST DIFFICULTIES . . . .43
VI. MY FIRST TRIP UP HAMILTON INLET . 51
VII. TEN WEEKS IN PARADISE . . .65
VIII. A Two HUNDRED AND FIFTY MILE JOUR-
NEY ON KOMATIK . . . .75
IX. A FEW WEEKS AT MUD LAKE . .91
X. A TRIP UP GRAND LAKE . . .97
XI. FROM MUD LAKE TO PARADISE . .103
XII. LIVING ALONE 109
XIII. THE RETURN OF SUMMER . . .117
XIV. THE INITIAL TRIP OF THE Arminian . 123
XV. CLOSE OF NAVIGATION .' . .129
XVI. IN THE GRIP OF WINTER'S ICY HAND . 133
XVII. GRAPPLING WITH INTEMPERANCE . . 139
XVIII. FROM MUD LAKE TO TICKERALUK . 147
XIX. IN THE MIDST OF POVERTY . . .157
XX. AT PARADISE AGAIN .... 167
XXI. AROUND THE COAST ON KOMATIK . .171
XXII. FAREWELL TO THE RUGGED COAST 179
Illustrations
FACING PAGE
REV. ARMINIUS YOUNG, MISSIONARY TO LABRADOR
(1903-1905) Frontispiece
THE NASCAUPEE INDIANS OF NORTHERN LABRADOR 4
REV. JOHN T. NEWMAN, THE PIONEER METHODIST
MISSIONARY TO HAMILTON INLET, LABRADOR . 24
REV. A. A. HOLMES, MISSIONARY TO NORTHERN
LABRADOR (1887-1889) 30
THE MOUTH OF THE GRAND RIVER, NOTED FOR ITS
FALLS 316 FEET HIGH
AN INDIAN ENCAMPMENT, AT NORTH-WEST RIVER
A SUNSET ON THE GRAND RIVER
GEORGE'S ISLAND, FROM WHICH MR. HOLMES WAS
RESCUED
GOD'S ACRE AT BLUFF HEAD, THE COMMON BURY-
ING GROUND FOR A RADIUS OF FIFTY MILES .
PUTTING A COAT OF PAINT ON THE NEW MISSION
BOAT, The Glad Tidings ....
REV. A. A. HOLMES, MISSIONARY, IN SLEEPING-
BAG, READY FOR THE NIGHT
NEXT MORNING ......
GIVING THE DOGS THEIR ONE DAILY MEAL . 84
AN ESKIMO IGLOO (SNOW-HOUSE) AND DOG-TRAIN 98
48
ILLUSTRATIONS
FACING PAGE
GIVING TOBACCO TO THE ESKIMOS ON ONE OF THE
COAST STEAMERS 120
HUDSON'S BAY Co.'s AGENTS AND THEIR GUIDES .
A LABRADOR HALF-BREED AND His HOME
v 1 Q/l
REV. E. BROUGHTON, MISSIONARY TO LABRADOR
(1905-1906) .
D. T. C. WATSON, M.D., OF THE NOVA SCOTIA
LUMBER CAMP, WHO HELPED TO FIGHT INTEM-
PERANCE ON THE LABRADOR . . . .142
SOME OF MY LABRADOR FRIENDS AND THEIR DOGS 152
READY FOR OUR TRIP BY KOMATIK AND DOG-TRAIN
A TYPICAL ESKIMO DOG .
A STACK OF WOOD, THE ONLY FUEL AVAILABLE IN
LABRADOR
5-
S .s
A Methodist Missionary
in Labrador
CHAPTER I.
LABRADOR AND ITS
Labrador is a large peninsula of British North Amer-
ica, formed by the Atlantic and Hudson's Bay, and
separated from Newfoundland by the Straits of Belle
Isle. The interior of this vast peninsula, especially its
northern section, is practically unknown. It is such a
bleak and desolate country that even the Indians, be-
cause of the scarcity of game in recent years, have
forsaken certain parts of it. Notwithstanding this,
some attempts have been made in the way of exploration.
Mr. A. P. Lowe, of the Canadian Geological Survey,
some years ago, explored the Hamilton or Grand River
region, which terminates in Lake Michikamau. This
river, which is one of the largest in Labrador, flows into
the head waters of Hamilton Inlet. "Its source is
among the lakes on the interior plateau, from which it
flows south-east for many miles; then sweeps north-east
to the end of Hamilton Inlet. The tributaries of the
lake forming the head waters of the Grand River connect
B 1
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
it directly with Lake Michikamau, the largest lake in
eastern Labrador."
In 1903, Leonidas Hubbard and Dillon Wallace, with
George Elson, an Indian guide, attempted to cross the
country from Hamilton Inlet to Ungava. Their plan
was not to go along the Grand River to Lake Michi-
kamau, as Mr. Lowe had done, but to take the route
entering at the north side of Hamilton Inlet by Grand
Lake, and proceed up the Nascaupee River to Lake
Michikamau, then down the George River to Ungava.
This route is shorter than the Grand River route, al-
though it is more rugged and desolate. Owing to the
absence of game, the Indians have not used this route
for many years.
The Nascaupee River flows into Grand Lake seven
miles below its extreme western end. The party fol-
lowed the route marked on that part of Mr. Lowe's
map which was drawn from hearsay and corroborated
by many of the natives, passed the mouth of the Nas-
caupee River, and entered the wild by Susan River at
the extreme end of the lake. This mistake not only
prevented the explorers from carrying out their purpose,
but cost Mr. Hubbard, the leader of the party, his life.
They pressed up the Susan Valley, across portages, and
over hills, for nearly two hundred miles, until they came
within sight of Lake Michikamau. Here they were
wind-bound, and owing to the lateness of the season,
2
LABRADOR AND ITS PEOPLE
scarcity of food, and lack of warm clothing, they were
compelled to return.
During this retreat they met their great disaster.
Within thirty-five miles of Grand Lake, Mr. Hubbard
was obliged to abandon the hope of going farther until
he had rested and regained strength from fresh supplies
of food. In order to obtain relief for him his brave
companions, Wallace and Elson, were compelled to
leave him with nothing to eat and in a sinking condition.
Their efforts were futile ; for when the relief party reached
him Mr. Hubbard had passed to the Great Beyond,
while Mr. Wallace barely escaped with his life.
Two years later two exploring parties, one led by
Mr. Wallace and the other by Mrs. Hubbard, widow of
the ill-fated explorer, and her guide George Elson, success-
fully crossed the country by the Nascaupee route to
Ungava. He and Wallace had profited by the terrible
experiences of their previous trip. Mrs. Hubbard's
success was a surprise to those who had any knowledge
of the country and the difficulties involved. "It was
perhaps the greatest achievement in exploration ever
accomplished by a woman." Mrs. Hubbard completed
the journey from Hamilton Inlet to Ungava in sixty-
one days, and returned home by the Hudson's Bay
Company's steamer in October.
Owing to the fact that Mr. Wallace lost the trail some
distance from Grand Lake, he did not complete the
3
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
journey in such good time. That he attempted the task
after suffering so much on his previous trip proved that
he possessed the heroic spirit of all real explorers. Mr.
Wallace remained at Ungava until winter set in, then
travelled south along the coast by komatik and dogs to
Quebec a long, cold and dreary journey of about two
thousand miles.
Labrador has a rugged and desolate coast-line ex-
tending from the Gulf of St. Lawrence to Hudson's
Strait, a distance of eleven hundred miles. It is in-
dented with many safe and beautiful harbors and lined
with numerous islands which serve as shelter to many
thousands of fisherrrien during the summer months. It
is practically cut off from the rest of the world for at
least seven months in the year.
A mail steamer, beginning some time in June and con-
tinuing till the end of October, runs from St. John's to
Nain. From that time till the following June no news
from the outer world can be obtained save by a possible
mail or two overland from Quebec to southern Labrador.
North of Nain only one regular mail a year is received
and that is in August, when the Hudson's Bay Com-
pany's steamer makes her yearly call at Labrador. To
the natives who have never been accustomed to other
conditions this may not seem a serious drawback, but to
the Europeans along the coast the isolation must be
terrible.
4
THE NASCAUPEE INDIANS OF NORTHERN LABRADOR.
LABRADOR AND ITS PEOPLE
During the winter months the climate is extremely
cold. The temperature, especially in northern Labrador,
often falls to forty degrees below zero, and the severity
of the cold is intensified by the strong winds from the
Arctic Ocean. The summers especially in the bays are
comparatively warm but very short, and the snow-
capped hills in the beginning of September give warning
of the approaching winter. Still, on the whole, the
climate is perhaps as healthy as in any part of the
world. The crispness of the winter, though piercing, is
invigorating and stimulating and, for those accustomed
to it, enjoyable.
The southern part of Labrador from the Straits of
Belle Isle to Cape Harrison is sparsely settled by British
colonists, while the northern section is the proper home
of the Eskimos who number about fourteen hundred.
A few who live beyond Ramah, the most northerly
station of the Moravian Mission, are said to be still
heathen.
Various tribes of Indians, the Mountaineers, Nas-
caupees and others, inhabit the interior. The Eskimos
always settle along the coast and live almost entirely
by fishing. They are dark and swarthy with high
cheek-bones and flat faces. We have been told that
they belong to the Mongolian race. Formerly they
lived in snow-houses, dressed in seal-skins and ate only
raw food consisting of fish, seal and caribou. At the
5
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
present day, north of the Moravian Mission many of
them live, under almost exactly the same conditions.
By the faithful work of the Moravian missionaries most
of the Eskimos have been brought to a state of civiliza-
tion and have adopted, in part, the European manner
of living; while among some of them the ancient cus-
toms of by-gone days still exist.
The Mountaineer Indians traverse the interior of
southern Labrador from the St. Lawrence to Hamilton
Inlet, and live partly on game and partly on such food
as flour, tea, butter, etc., for which they barter their
furs at the station of the Hudson's Bay Company.
The other tribes who inhabit the interior live principally
on game, for they seldom visit the coast unless driven
by want. The home of the Nascaupees is in the in-
terior of northern Labrador but they occasionally visit
the station of the Hudson's Bay Company at Ungava.
All the Indians of Labrador are of a roving disposition
and seem to have no desire for a settled life. They are
almost continually on the move but are rarely in a hurry.
They have no ambition to accumulate wealth, but are
satisfied with making a living. While travelling they are
always on the look-out for food, and when they come
upon a herd of deer they kill sufficient to last them about
a month; then they rest as long as the supply holds out.
Having exhausted the food they move on, shooting and
trapping as they go. They naturally believe the interior
6
LABRADOR AND ITS PEOPLE
of the country belongs to them and have no kindly feel-
ings for any who intrude upon their territory. They
live a wild and free life, and on the whole are a happy
and contented people.
Over a hundred years ago Europeans began to settle
in Hamilton Inlet and Sandwich Bay. They married
the natives and to-day nearly all the people there are
half-breeds. From Sandwich Bay to Blance Sablon most
of the settlers were originally from Newfoundland. The
river emptying into the latter port is the dividing line
between Newfoundland territory and the Dominion of
Canada.
The chief industry of Labrador is the cod fishery.
As many as six hundred vessels from Newfoundland,
employing upwards of thirty thousand men, are engaged
during the summer months in drawing the inexhaustible
wealth from its waters. The half-breeds along the
coast engage in this trade also but those in the bays
depend chiefly on the fur industry.
CHAPTER II.
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCES.
The first attempt to establish a mission in Labrador
was made by the Moravians in 1765. Attempts had
been made as early as 1752; but these failed and
J. E. Ehrhardt, the missionary, was kiljed by the
natives. Since 1765 this energetic, self-sacrificing
missionary body has carried on mission work on the
Labrador, and has succeeded in preaching the gospel
to most of the Eskimos scattered over that rough and
extensive shore, and established them in the faith of
the Christian religion.
The Moravians have missions now at Makkovic,
Nain, Okak, Hopedale, Hebron, Zoar and in other
places. At each station they have a church, school,
store and mission house. The influence and effect of
their work has been an untold blessing to the Eskimo
race of the frozen north.
The work of the Moravians has been almost exclusively
confined to northern Labrador; south of Cape Har-
rison they have rarely done any definite missionary
work. They formerly made occasional visits to Hamil-
9
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
ton Inlet and Sandwich Bay but established no missions
there.
The Church of England has for many years been
doing mission work among the natives north of the
Moravian stations. Mr. Stewart has given the best
years of his life to the Eskimos and Indians of Ungava
and vicinity. This devoted and consecrated Irishman,
in giving his life to the cause of God in the cold and
isolation of the far north, has made a great sacrifice, but
greater still has been the work he has accomplished.
A literature has grown up in connection with the
Deep Sea Mission; the pioneer work of the missionaries
in Labrador is practically unknown to the world. These
missionaries in their isolation have been content to do
their work quietly yet faithfully unto the Lord. For
the most part they have been unnoticed by the world,
but their work has involved as great a sacrifice, perhaps,
as any mission work in any part of the world.
Nearly a hundred and fifty years ago Englishmen
began to settle in Labrador. England was then engaged
in war and was passing through a very troublesome
period. Many of her people sought to escape from the
ravages of war; a few of these found their way to the
rugged shores of Labrador. Some of those Englishmen
were godly men ; they brought with them their Bibles and
taught their Eskimo wives to read the Word of God, with
the result that some of them, at least, were converted
10
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCES
and died happily in the Lord. There is no record, as far
as I know, of the history of those first English settlers in
Labrador.
In 1780 the first two white men, William Phippard
and John Newhook, settled in Hamilton Inlet. This
information I gleaned from the oldest settlers during the
winter of 1904. Previous to this, European vessels
visited the coast in the summer season. The vessel
which brought these two men sailed about one hundred
and twenty miles up the inlet, bringing them within fifty
miles of its extreme end. Here on the south side of the
inlet, according to their wish, they were put ashore at a
place, afterwards named English River. Their intention
was to remain but one year on the coast and to spend
the winter experimenting in furring, fishing, etc. The
captain of the vessel promised faithfully to call for
them the following summer.
The vessel then returned to England and the two
men were left alone amidst the bleak desolation of
Labrador, with none but wild Eskimos for companions.
They little knew what awaited them. The long, weary
winter soon set in, and they had to adapt themselves as
best they could to the unaccustomed conditions on the
cold, uncivilized coast. How they passed the winter
can only be conjectured, for their history has never been
written. Whether they had taken from the vessel
sufficient food for the winter or depended entirely upon
11
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
the game of the coast is not known. With great skill
they adapted themselves to their strange surroundings
and, no doubt, in a large degree to the Eskimo manner
of living. At the return of the summer, the captain
failing to call for them, they made up their minds to
make Labrador their future home. Three years later
when a vessel from the old land visited them and offered
to take them home to England they declined the offer,
as they preferred to remain on the isolated shore.
Phippard and Newhook had by this time acquired,
in part, the Eskimo language, had become accustomed
to their manner of living, had been hardened by the
frosts of three winters, and for them there was not
much to lure them back to the old land, hence their
decision to remain.
They made up their minds to start life there in true
Eskimo fashion ; consequently they left English River,
where apparently they were living alone, and settled
in Double Mer, a small Eskimo settlement, on the north
side of the bay. There they made the acquaintance
of an old Eskimo widow and her daughter, then a
young woman. Phippard and the older woman de-
cided to unite their fortunes, while Newhook, being
the younger of the two, was looked upon with favor by
the daughter; a double marriage was the result. As
there was no one on the coast at that time holding a
12
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCES
license to marry, no doubt Phippard and Newhook
accepted the Eskimo custom of marriage.
A complete history of those two first English settlers
in Labrador would be interesting reading. But it is not
known and if it were it would be outside the purpose of
this book to give any more than the barest fragment of
it. Phippard' s wife, besides the daughter whom New-
hook married, had two sons by her first husband.
Several years after their marriage, when the sons had
grown up and a number of white men had settled
around the bay, Newhook with the two Eskimo lads
started on a trip one hundred miles overland to Kene-
mesh at the head of the bay, where some white
men had recently settled, to purchase nails for the
building of a boat. For some unknown reason the two
lads turned upon Newhook and killed him. Thus it
was that one of the first two Englishmen who settled
in Labrador met his death on a hill on the south side
of Hamilton Inlet, now known as Newhook' s Hill.
Some time after this William Brooks, a young Eng-
lishman who had recently come to Labrador, and who
afterwards became the father of Mrs. Daniel Campbell,
of whom we shall hear again, called to see Phippard,
then an old man. He found him sitting in the sun by
the door-way of his hut, with the Bible in his hand, with
tears in his eyes, in a very lonely and despondent mood.
He too soon passed away; but not before he had spread
13
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
an unconscious influence for good, and inculcated,
though perhaps in a crude form, some principles of the
Christian religion in the heathen Eskimos.
I learned from Mrs. Campbell that her father was a
good singer and was interested in the education of his
children. He spared no pains in teaching them how to
sing and read. This might have been the extent of
their education, for Brooks thought that his half-breed
children could get along very well on the Labrador
without the knowledge of writing. The children,
however, were ambitious and by perusing their father's
letters, and with what little help they received from
him, they learned to write. In this way practically
all the children of middle Labrador learned to read
and write. Brooks' wife became a Christian, and when
she died left the grand testimony behind that she was
going to be with Christ. Thus the light of Christ,
bringing with it the assurance of eternal glory, was
dawning upon those dark hearts.
In common with most pagan people, the Eskimos
have their tradition of the Flood. The story, as handed
down to them (we do not know the source), says that
in the remote past the earth was swept by a great flood.
This flood came as a result of the anger of the Great
Spirit against the world on account of its sin. Noah )
the only good man in the world, was warned by
the Great Spirit to build a boat of seal-skin, that he
14
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCES
might not be destroyed with the others. This he did.
Then came the rain and flooded the earth, drowning
everyone but Noah, who floated on the surface of the
water in his watertight, seal-skin boat. After many
days the rain ceased and when the water abated Noah's
boat rested on the hill. The old man, crawling out of
the boat and walking along where the water lapped the
shore, saw a seal-skin shoe, in which were a number of
puppies. He took the shoe, with the contents, and put
it on the bosom of the deep. For days the wind carried
the shoe aimlessly about, until finally it drove into the
very place from which Noah had started it. Here he
again found it and upon second examination was de-
lighted to discover that all the puppies had been con-
verted into men and women. Thus the Eskimos
accounted for the speedy populating of the world after
the Flood.
This is a very crude and even amusing conception, but
the question naturally arises, where did they get an idea
of the Flood at all? Perhaps it can only be accounted
for on a supposition that the Eskimo tribe originally
belonged to or was surrounded by a religious nation,
who knew the oracles of God, and in their isolation and
loss of religious influence and principles managed,
through the long period of their degeneration, to retain
a faint idea of some of their ancient traditions.
Another factor which helped to raise the Eskimos in
Labrador from their low state of ignorance and sin was
15
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
the influence of the agents of the Hudson's Bay Com-
pany, who traded with them. I would not endorse all
the actions of the Company in relation to the Eskimos.
That they did them full justice in business relations
may well be doubted. However, I am at present con-
cerned with their good influence upon the ignorant
natives.
To the credit of the Hudson's Bay Company be it
said that it was always a law with them that their agents
on all the posts should conduct services on the Sabbath,
for the benefit of the natives as well as for their own
clerks. This the agents did for many years before any
missionary was stationed on that part of the coast and
for a long time supplied the only public means of grace
among these unfortunate people. These agents not only
conducted religious services on the Lord's Day but bap-
tized, buried, and married the people. The work,
doubtless, was inadequately done, but it was the best
that could be accomplished under the circumstances,
and it certainly was a step in advance of the conditions
which existed prior to the establishment of the Hudson's
Bay Company in Labrador.
A few years ago Mrs. Daniel Campbell, who has
recently been called to her heavenly home, gave me the
history of her first marriage. This marriage gives a
good insight into the social conditions existing in La-
brador at that time. She was then only sixteen years of
16
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCES
age and was living at home with her father. Bill Blake,
a wild, rough, young man, had set his heart upon Lydia,
as her name was ; but she did not want Bill for she loved
another. However, he was determined to have her and
as she would not consent he planned to force her to marry
him. He arranged for a komatik party to Rigolet, a
Hudson's Bay Company's post, fifty miles from Double
Mer, where he and Lydia were then living. An invitation
was given to all the people in that place including, of
course, Lydia and her father; her mother had died some
years previously. The day appointed for the trip was
looked forward to with delight by all. No one was
more jubilant over the affair than the girl herself. This
was 'her first trip to Rigolet, and it was to her what
London would be to an English country girl. The day
dawned fine and clear, cold and crisp, an ideal Labra-
dor winter's day. All the dogs in the place were har-
nessed, and soon four komatiks were on their way to
Rigolet, Lydia riding on her father's komatik. How
glad she was!
Arriving at their destination the usual dog fight began.
The large force of dogs at Rigolet rushed upon the
strange dogs with vicious onslaught. The men inter-
fered and the savage fight soon ended, after which
Lydia was taken to the "big house" and made welcome.
Everyone seemed kind and nice to her, especially Blake's
friends. Bill succeeded in making Lydia's father drunk;
c 17
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
for by so doing he could more easily carry out his plan.
So far his plot had worked well and without the least
suspicion on Lydia's part. Presently an old lady carrying
a new dress in her hand came into the room where she
was and said:
"Lydia, you must take off that old dress and put on
this new one, for you have to get married this evening. "
"Married," she said, "I never thought of getting
married. Who to?"
" You have to marry Bill Blake. "
"I will not; I don't love him."
"But you must, your father has told him he can have
you and welcome."
Lydia insisted she would not have Bill. Her feelings
were not regarded, and two cruel women began at once
to remove her old dress. The girl resisted but it was
all of no avail ; she was powerless in their hands and was
forced to submit to the inevitable. Blake came in and
she was compelled to stand beside him, while some
servant at the station read the marriage ceremony.
It is unnecessary for our present purpose to follow
this marriage further, sufficient to say that her life with
Blake was very unhappy. He did not live long, how-
ever, and some years later Mrs. Blake married Daniel
Campbell, a young Scotchman, with whom she lived
happily for the long period of fifty-four years.
About this time missionaries from Newfoundland
began to visit the coast during the summer season.
18
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCES
Those visits were rare and only a few of the people
scattered over the large bays could be reached in this way.
The need of a permanent missionary on the coast was
greatly felt. The people were hungering for the gospel,
of which they had received but a small share. They
were destined to wait long, however, but all things come
to those who wait, and eventually a missionary came to
them.
19
CHAPTER III.
FIRST METHODIST MISSIONARIES.
As early as 1820 the Wesley an Missionary Com-
mittee turned its attention to the inhospitable coast of
Labrador. About fifty years earlier the Moravians had
succeeded in establishing a mission on the coast. But
south of Hopedale to the Straits of Belle Isle "the
Eskimo roamed in savage wildness." Adam Clarke
Avard, then stationed at Fredericton, N.B., was the
young minister requested by the Committee in 1821
to proceed to southern Labrador to ' ' commence there
the Society's Mission."
Avard, however, never saw the stormy coast and rocky
headlands of Labrador; for ere the time of his removal
came, his useful life on earth had ended. The respon-
sible and arduous task of commencing the mission was
entrusted to the ministers of the Newfoundland Dis-
trict, who, owing to the pressing calls from various parts
of the island, deferred the Labrador Mission for three
years. Then Thomas Hickson, before sailing for
England, went to the coast for a few weeks. The moral
condition of the people there was deplorable, and mis-
21
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
sionary work was as much needed among the European
population as among the "poor, benighted Esquimaux."
On July llth, 1824, in Hamilton Inlet, Thomas
Hickson preached to forty Europeans from the text,
"The kingdom of Heaven is at hand, repent ye and
believe the gospel." This was the first sermon, as far
as Hickson could learn, which had ever been preached
in the bay; he was the first Christian minister who had
ever set foot upon its unfruitful soil. Twenty Eskimos
were also present at the time but in the absence of an in-
terpreter were unable to understand the preacher's
message. "At another place with the assistance of a
half-breed interpreter, the wife of a Canadian, he sev-
eral times addressed a band of Eskimos, and who lis-
tened with apparent interest." Hickson writing of his
swarthy congregation said, "They went home and spent
the Sabbath evening in a much better way than some pro-
fessing Christians do. " After spending ten weeks on the
coast, during which time he married a number of persons,
baptized some adults and their children, and preached to
large numbers of Newfoundland and American fisher-
men, Hickson returned to Newfoundland and took
passage for England.
The following summer Richard Knight sailed from
Brigus for Labrador, intending to spend a short time
preaching the gospel among the fishermen and natives
and in making investigation concerning the advisa-
22
FIRST METHODIST MISSIONARIES
bility of establishing a mission among the Eskimos in
Hamilton Inlet. After spending a few weeks on the
coast he "returned to Newfoundland as deeply convinced
as Thomas Hickson had been that a Labrador mission
should be immediately undertaken. ' '
The man selected for this northern, isolated post was
George Ellidge. He accepted the mission as a matter
of duty and with a degree of reluctance sailed for his
destination. Late in the autumn he returned to St.
John's in quest of building material for his mission at
Snook's Cove. In the following year he returned to
the colony somewhat discouraged. After his year's
attempt to establish a mission in Labrador he came to
the conclusion that it was impossible to accomplish the
task, and opposed any further move in the same direction.
William Wilson, then at Burin, a man of great courage
and heroic spirit, volunteered for the mission; the Com-
mittee accepted his offer and his name "appeared in
the minutes of 1828, as appointed to the Indian
Mission, Esquimaux Bay," as Hamilton Inlet was then
called; for some reason he never went to the coast. In
the meantime Charles Bate, who went there for a short
stay, held the same view as Ellidge and the Labrador
Mission was abandoned. The report of 1829, con-
tained these words: "The Labrador Mission is for
the present abandoned, principally in consequence of
the removal of the Esquimau tribes from the coast into
the interior of the country and their general dispersion. "
23
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
Little did the Committee think when the Labrador
Mission was abandoned that fifty-five years would
elapse ere the post would again be filled, but such was
the case. It was not till 1884 that the Newfound-
land Conference appointed a young minister to Hamilton
Inlet.
Meanwhile many changes had taken place. Numbers
of white men had settled in the bay and had taken na-
tive wives. The Eskimos in consequence had largely
diminished and a half-breed race had grown up. The
Eskimo dialect had given way to the English language
the European manner of living as far as it was practi-
cable in Labrador had been adopted and a more civilized
condition had been reached. The Eskimo had lost his
savage wildness and all the people were at least nominally
Christian. For many years clergymen, both of the An-
glican and Methodist denominations, visited the coast in
the summer season. These visits proved a great blessing
to the people ; and it was unfortunate that during the long
winter the sound of the preacher's voice was not heard.
The Methodist Conference of Newfoundland, re-
cognizing the long-neglected spiritual need on the La-
brador, resolved in 1884 to establish a mission there
and asked for a volunteer for Hamilton Inlet. John
T. Newman, a devoted and consecrated young minister,
volunteered for the isolated post and for two years he
labored there with splendid results. During the minis-
24
REV. JOHN T. NEWMAN
The Pioneer Methodist Missionary to Hamilton
Inlet, Labrador.
FIRST METHODIST MISSIONARIES
try of this devoted man mission work there was well
begun. Many were the converts that he won for his
Master. The writer twenty years later heard several
old people give glowing testimonies in gratitude to
God that the message of salvation had been brought to
them by Mr. Newman.
John T. Newman was the pioneer missionary to Ham-
ilton Inlet, Labrador. He was faithful and conscien-
tious, and laid the foundation of future work
on that part of the coast. Indeed his work brought
him ample reward for all the hardships he endured.
He was then a young man recently come from Eng-
land, and the contrast between the old land and the
cold, friendless, uninviting coast of Labrador must have
been great. Cast on the desolate shore, with no friend,
no home, no church, among those swarthy half-breeds
and Eskimos, to eat their food, live in their log huts,
sleep on the floors in a seal-skin bag, travel a thousand
miles by komatik and foot during the cold and stormy
winter, to receive no word from home from October till
July, was the prospect which presented itself to this
devoted missionary as he entered upon his work in
Labrador and from which he did not shrink.
But the strain and stress of the work on this arduous
field and the lack of proper food and a comfortable home
were almost more than Mr. Newman's constitution
could endure. So greatly was his system weakened that
25
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
when he returned to Newfoundland his friends thought
his career on earth must necessarily be short. He soon
regained his former strength, however, and is still
an honoured minister in the Newfoundland Con-
ference. He has filled most of the offices in the
Conference and once sat in the Presidential chair.
He was succeeded by a Mr. Stevens, whose health
began to break down shortly after his arrival on the
coast, so that he was unable to remain more than a year.
Though Mr. Stevens could not travel as his predecessor
had done, he managed, under great inconvenience to
himself, to get around that vast mission and with his
cheery words and congenial disposition gave comfort
and inspiration to those who had been brought to
Christ during the ministry of Mr. Newman.
The next man to volunteer for the Labrador Mission
was Albert A. Holmes, a hardy Newfoundlander. His
robust nature and strong constitution, as well as his
missionary spirit, fitted him for such a field and guar-
anteed success.
A house at Lester's Point, the former home of a trader,
was secured for a mission house, and this was made
the missionary's headquarters. Here Mr. Holmes
erected a nice little church which supplied a long-felt
need. He encountered many hardships during his long
and weary travels over his rough and stormy mission,
and once barely escaped with his life.
26
FIRST METHODIST MISSIONARIES
On this occasion Mr. Holmes and John Groves, a
half-breed, who has since passed away, were crossing the
bay from Double Mer to Lester's Point. A few hun-
dred yards from the shore they came in contact with
thin ice, which had made the previous night and
which the tide was carrying down the bay at a rapid
pace. They tried in vain to work their little boat
through the ice and reach land. Farther and farther
they were swept out into the open bay. Two or three
times they nearly touched land while being swept down
the long inlet, and once or twice as they passed points
of land they could all but touch the shore with their
paddles, but the ice held them tightly bound and their
hopes were dashed to pieces.
Finally they found themselves out on the bosom of
the great Atlantic. Fortunately for them a large island
stood out in the ocean about seven miles from the main-
land and fifty miles from their starting point. To reach
this island was their only hope, but this was by no means
certain, as a little whirling of the tide might take them
to one side or the other. They were successful, however,
and it was with a feeling of great relief that they at last
reached land. The island was not inhabited and af-
forded but little shelter from the cold of a Labrador
winter's night. There stretched between them and
the mainland a field of thin ice upon which they could
not walk and through which they could not row; their
chances of life were small.
27
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
They had with them in their boat their dogs, koma-
tik, sleeping-bags, and a little food. After hauling up
their boat and taking a lunch they crawled into their
sleeping-bags and spent the night as comfortably as
possible.
In the morning to their great delight they saw a nar-
row lake of open water, which they thought extended
to the mainland. No time was lost; komatik, dogs,
harnesses, sleeping-bags, were hurriedly thrown into
the boat and a dash made for the mainland. But the
stern nature of the North is not so easily conquered.
Within a mile of the shore the narrow lake of water
closed in, the wind changed and they found themselves
again at the mercy of the ice, wind and tide. They
drifted on the waters of the broad ocean and no island,
this time, lay along their path. All day they drifted
helplessly for twenty -five miles or more. At dusk,
when the wind abated, they were fifteen miles off
Cape Porcupine.
The night was calm and cold and Mr. Holmes, with his
companion and the dogs, huddled together in the small
boat and longed for dawn. When the day broke Mr.
Holmes, putting his feet over the side of the boat to
try the strength of the ice, said:
"Praise the Lord, John, we can walk ashore on the
ice to-day." The ice was not very strong as might be
expected, being .the product of only one night, and at
28
FIRST METHODIST MISSIONARIES
that distance from the headlands it never makes suffi-
ciently strong to risk one's life upon. The ice thus
formed does not remain long, as the ocean winds have
too great a play upon it, and generally that which is
made during a calm night is smashed to pieces by the
gales of the next day. Mr. Holmes was well aware of all
this and, as a precaution, before leaving the boat, tied
the end of a rope around his waist, while Groves fast-
ened the other end around his, so that if one fell through
the ice, the other could easily pull him out. Their out-
fit had to be abandoned; the dogs, however, attempted
to follow their heroic masters, but fell through the ice
and were drowned. As the ice was too weak to walk
on they had to crawl practically the whole distance. It
was a terrible experience.
At 4 p.m., tired, weary and stiff they reached Cape
Porcupine. When they landed they had only three
biscuits in their pockets. Almost immediately a gust
of wind from the north carried all the ice off. How
providential their escape seemed! In the hospitable
home of Mr. James Davis they found shelter for the
night.
The missionary who had this experience is a great
sufferer from rheumatism to-day, and has been for
many years. But this experience did not daunt him.
A new travelling outfit was immediately purchased, a
fresh team of dogs secured and his arduous work was
29
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
at once resumed. At the end of his two years' term it was
with a feeling of regret that he took leave of the swarthy
people of Labrador, many of whom wept tears of sor-
row, as the missionary took his final departure. He
won the hearts of the people and his name has been a
household word with many of those simple but kind-
hearted half-breeds.
The next missionary to become acquainted with
the "grim rocks and giant headlands" of Labrador was
Jabez Moore, of Carbonear, Newfoundland, now Dr.
Moore, of North Dakota, U.S.A. Mr. Moore also spent
a couple of years on the coast, where his labours were
crowned with spiritual success. He has now been for
many years a presiding elder of the Methodist Episcopal
Church in North Dakota, and under his enthusiastic
leadership many churches have been built, many new
circuits organized and the moral and spiritual condition
of the people, over his large diocese, greatly improved.
He was succeeded by Selby Jefferson, a quiet, con-
scientious man, who did faithful work during his term
on the coast. His physique was not exceptionally
strong, but his spirit was heroic; he forgot himself in
his ministry to the needy people on the bleak coast of
Labrador. The church and the world owe much to
such men.
Frank S. Hollet, who followed Mr. Jefferson, after
a year on the coast, married, and his wife became a
30
REV. A. A. HOLMES
Missionary to Northern Labrador (1887-1889)
FIRST METHODIST MISSIONARIES
great blessing to the children on the mission. She taught
several of them at the mission house, two of whom she
trained for teachers, who afterwards did comparatively
good work, both in Hamilton Inlet and Sandwich Bay.
Mr. Hollet was blessed with a kind, sympathetic and
congenial disposition, and knew the way to the hearts
of the people. He spent six years on the isolated coast,
travelling up and down its rugged shore, encountering
storms and frequently coming in contact with poverty
and distress. Like his predecessors he had to share the
fate of the unfortunate people there, during his long
journeys around the extensive mission. His faithful and
devoted wife experienced many lonely nights and anx-
ious days during those long, cold winters when, of
necessity, her husband would be away from home the
greater part of his time.
In 1899, Mr. Hollet returned to Newfoundland
and was succeeded by John J. Sparks, who gave three
years of service to the coast. The missionary there
never sees a fellow missionary and to remain three
years without ever leaving the coast is, indeed, a
great sacrifice. This Mr. Sparks did, in spite of his
frequent temptation to return home. Duty was put
before personal and private feelings and God blessed
his work.
During the summer of 1902, the Conference find-
ing it difficult to get a volunteer for the Labrador
31
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
Mission from the ranks of the ministry, asked Isaac
French, who was contemplating entering the ministry,
but was then a fisherman, to go to that field for the
year; like Zebedee's sons he left his father's boat, re-
turned home to Bay Roberts and in October sailed for
the Labrador Mission.
While he was sailing for the lonely post the fishing
schooners in large fleets were sailing home, and among
them his father's schooner. The scene made the young
man's heart lonely and the prospect of spending a win-
ter on the isolated coast was to him almost unbearable.
He arrived at Lester's Point too late in the season to
do any travelling by boat, and as the ice on that large
bay does not afford safe travelling till nearly Christmas,
Mr. French had to spend his first three months in Labra-
dor with two solitary families. As hard as the travelling
might be it was good that the missionaries had so much
of it to do, for the constant exercise prevented them,
under such circumstances, from being victims of mel-
ancholy.
The day after Christmas Mr. French started on his
winter travels and soon to a great extent forgot his
loneliness, in a race around the bay on komatik.
He was very emotional and attracted the people by his
frequent outbursts of zeal while preaching. He deliv-
ered his message with manifest earnestness and fervour,
in those small Labrador houses, to congregations of a
dozen people.
32
FIRST METHODIST MISSIONARIES
On his way to the lumber camps at the head of the
bay he spent a night at Mrs. Daniel Campbell's home
and preached there. After the service the old lady put
her hand on his shoulder, in her quaint, characteristic
way, and said:
"My son, don't preach like that in the Nova Scotian
camps, because they will make fun at you if you do."
Mr. French was not prepared to slacken his zeal,
however, and the Nova Scotians received the gospel
with demonstration of power and that without any
apology. His stay on the coast was short, as he re-
turned to Newfoundland the following July.
Twenty years of missionary toil in Hamilton Inlet had
resulted in much good being done among the people.
The missionary laboured under great inconvenience, but
his efforts were owned and blessed of God. Many who
had seldom, if ever, heard the gospel preached before,
had been brought into the conscious assurance of their
acceptance with Christ. Two sermons a year were bet-
ter than none, and often those sermons were appre-
ciated more and accompanied with greater visible
results than fifty-two sermons preached to a gospel-
hardened people. Many of the children had been
taught to read and write, two or three had been trained
for teachers, and on the whole, the people had been
much enlightened by the faithful efforts of the conse-
crated missionary. The world does not know much
D 33
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
about the work of the missionaries in Labrador; these
servants of God have toiled in silence, but in the day
of judgment, methinks, they will have conferred upon
them as great a reward as many whose work is more
widely known and whose efforts have been applauded
by every nation under the sun.
34
CHAPTER IV.
MY APPOINTMENT.
The month of May, 1903, found me working hard at
my examination papers; I was recommended by the
June Twillingate District Meeting of that year as a
candidate for the ministry, and anxiously awaited my
appointment. When the station sheet appeared, I saw
with some surprise that I was appointed to the Labrador
Mission. Heretofore the Conference had always
asked for a volunteer for that mission, but my appoint-
ment was made without my permission, and I was
robbed of the honour of volunteering. I immediately
began to make preparations for the journey, and on
July 22nd took passage on board the 5.5. Virginia Lake
for the Labrador Mission.
Our first port of call on the coast was Battle Harbour.
The Deep Sea Mission has a hospital at this place, and
under the supervision of Dr. Grenfell and his worthy
staff, hundreds of needy fishermen receive medical treat-
ment and spiritual advice and comfort. The motto
of the mission is, "To preach the gospel and^heal the
35
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
sick." All who have any knowledge of the work of the
mission know that it lives up to its motto.
From Battle Harbour north all along the coast are
numerous harbours, which serve as excellent fishing
stations, and upwards of thirty thousand fishermen fish
from these harbors during the summer season. The mail
steamer makes a fortnightly trip from St. John's to
Nain and calls at practically all of the harbours on the
Labrador coast.
When I made the trip the whole coast was enveloped
in thick fog, and it was interesting to see how Captain
Parsons piloted the ship in and out of those harbours
in such a dense fog. He has been doing this now for
nearly twenty years and has never had a serious mis-
fortune. These harbours were dotted with small sum-
mer houses and fishing "stages" while one caught an
occasional glimpse of a few goats and pigs roaming
along the shore and over the hills. The settlers for
the most part were fishermen from Newfoundland, who
during the fishing season moved with their families,
live stock and as few personal belongings as possible, for
the summer's fishing. They always returned home in
the autumn.
After a journey of four days from the last port of call
on the island of Newfoundland we arrived at Rigolet, a
station of the Hudson's Bay Company in Hamilton
Inlet, two miles from Lester's Point, our headquarters.
MY APPOINTMENT
I found Mr. French, my predecessor, there to meet me.
With him and Charlie Flowers, his boatman, I went
across to Lester's Point and was welcomed there, in true
Labrador fashion, by Charlie's wife, a half-breed. Mr.
French remained with me two days and then went in
a small boat to Indian Harbour, to meet the Virginia
Lake on her way south, and return home.
The Mission House in contrast with the Labrador
houses was a large, commodious building and afforded
ample room for the missionary and the small family
that occupied the house with him. The scenery here
is very rugged and uninviting scarcely a foot of fertile
land can be seen, while on either side of the expanse
of water stand high, rugged hills, rendered a little
less sterile in appearance by being clothed with a coat
of low spruce from their summits down to their feet
or water-side.
While only two families were living at the Point, all
the people who were salmon fishing within a radius of
twelve miles gathered at the church on Sundays. My
first Sabbath there will be long remembered. As I
looked over my swarthy congregation of about seventy
men, women and children, my heart was drawn out in
sympathy towards them. Though to a casual observer
the material upon which I had to work perhaps might
seem uninviting, I felt that their many needs, especially
in things spiritual, demanded my best, and that they
37
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
were worthy of a great deal more than I could give
them. I preached to them from the text: "And when
the day of Pentecost was fully come they were all with
one accord in one place." They listened very atten-
tively.
After the morning service, according to the usual cus-
tom, the whole congregation proceeded to the Mission
House and boiled sufficient water on the kitchen stove
for the mid-day meal for the entire congregation. Some
ate their dinner in the kitchen, while others ate out of
doors ; none of them being particular about the arrange-
ments. Owing to the distance they had to go, we could
have no evening meeting; the day's work closed with
one afternoon service. Some had come two miles, some
four, while others had come ten and even twelve miles.
I wondered, as I saw those half-breeds rowing away in
their boats, how often would many who live in more
favoured places get to the House of God if they had to
go ten or twelve miles to get there! Yet these people
had to do this and thought it a great privilege to be
living, for two months in the year, within ten miles of
a place of worship.
The following week passed without an event of special
interest. Life on the Point with only two families was
very monotonous, and I longed for Sunday to return.
The second Sabbath dawned bright and clear and the
water of the bay was beautiful and calm, as if inviting
the people to the House of God.
38
MY APPOINTMENT
"We'll have a big crowd yer to-day," said Charlie,
as he came downstairs rubbing his eyes.
At 10 o'clock I noticed boats coming from all direc-
tions. From one of them there stepped ashore an old,
dumpy and interesting-looking lady. I saw, through
the dining-room window, that as she came along she
had a word to say to everybody, and everybody had a
word to say to her. She entered the kitchen with the
crowd; but soon, however, I heard a knock at my door
and in walked Mrs. Flowers with this old lady.
"Mrs. Campbell is come to see you, Mr. Young,"
said Mrs. Flowers.
"Yes," said Mrs. Campbell, "had to come in and
see the new minister," and she clasped me by the hand,
giving me a hearty welcome to Labrador. In about
ten minutes she poured into my ears more information
about Labrador and its people than I had received up to
that time.
"I must go now," she said, thinking she had given
me all the information I needed, and putting her hands
upon my shoulders, said:
" Now, my son, you must go out into the kitchen and
talk to the people as the other ministers used to do."
"Is that so?" I replied.
"Yes," she said, "if you don't the people won't like
you."
I followed her into the kitchen and soon had an in-
39
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
troduction to them all, and together we walked to the
little church.
The summer was swiftly passing and it was time
I started on my tour around the mission. I learned
from Mr. French that the mission extended one
hundred and twenty-five miles west, about the
same distance south-east, and fifty miles north; while
in winter I had an additional tramp of forty miles up
Grand Lake, the hunting-ground of some of the natives ;
besides I had to visit the lumber-camps in the interior
from Mud Lake. This ground could be covered easily
if one could travel by train or steamer, but when it had
to be done in a small boat in summer and by komatik
and foot in winter, the task was not easy.
Hamilton Inlet is the largest and perhaps the most
fertile bay in Labrador. Twelve miles inland from
Rigolet the bay gradually widens until it reaches a
width of twenty-eight miles and gradually closes in
again twenty miles from its head, where the inlet ter-
minates one hundred and twenty-five miles west of
Rigolet. This region of the bay is of the wildest des-
cription; high hills rise in all directions, some of which
are entirely bare of trees. The Mealy Mountains may
be seen at a distance of fifty miles, stretching them-
selves out at the head of the bay and running almost
parallel with the coast. The Grand River, which flows
into the head of this bay, is the largest in Labrador,
40
(a) The Mouth of the Grand River, Noted for its Falls 316 feet High.
(b) An Indian Encampment at North-West River.
(c) A Sunset on the Grand River.
MY APPOINTMENT
and has some of the grandest, if not the largest, falls in
the world. From Kenemesh to St. John's Island, a dis-
tance of eighty miles, unlike the coast outside, there is
no safe harbour. It is a long, straight shore, unbroken
by harbours; the hills on both sides of the expanse
slope down to the water's edge, giving it a rough and
rugged appearance.
41
CHAPTER V.
FIRST
Travelling facilities on the Labrador are extremely
poor. For the use of the missionary at Hamilton Inlet
there had been for a number of years, a small boat; but
it was entirely unfit for the kind of work which was to
be done on that stormy mission. Mr. Sparks, recognizing
the need of a more suitable boat, sold the old one and
made arrangements for the building of a new one, to be
completed by the spring of 1903. When I arrived
at Lester's Point I was informed that a splendid decked
boat was ready for "action" at Snack Cove. Captain
McConnel, a Nova Scotian trader, was on his way out
the bay, and kindly offered me a passage to Snack Cove.
Before leaving for Snack Cove I went with Charlie
and his wife to Rigolet to purchase a small boat from
Mr. Fraser, the Hudson's Bay factor at the post. This
little boat, which was only nine feet long, was a necessity
on our trips, so we took her in tow.
In this small dingey I left for Lester's point, while
Charlie and his wife went in his own fishing-boat. I
was not aware of the treacherous tide in the narrows,
43
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
and the half-breeds of Labrador are very shy in ac-
quainting one with the dangers with which they them-
selves have always been familiar. I soon found that
the tide had more control of my boat than I had myself.
It was blowing a strong breeze directly ahead, but not-
withstanding this the strength of the tide was carrying
me against it at a rapid pace. The bay also, as a result
of the conflicting forces of wind and tide, was very
rough, and the farther I drove out the bay the rougher
it became. It was impossible to row against the tide
and my only hope lay in cutting across it and reaching
land before it swept me into the rough water of the open
bay, where at such a time my frail boat would have a
very small chance of escape. Charlie, who was sailing
across the bay some distance to the windward of me,
became alarmed, as he saw me driving helplessly away.
He came to my assistance by lowering his sail and allow-
ing his boat to drift towards me, while I did my best to
pull towards him. After awhile we managed to meet,
and with great difficulty I succeeded in getting aboard
his boat and in tying the painter of my boat fast to his.
The sail was again put up, but in our effort to reach land
it seemed at times as if the furious sea was going to
swallow us up. We succeeded, however, in reaching
the shore, some distance below Lester's Point, without
mishap. I was now just beginning to learn what mission
work in Labrador meant.
44
FIRST DIFFICULTIES
The run to Snack Cove was without an event of
special interest. Captain McConnel was a pleasant and
congenial man. He was honest and upright in his deal-
ings with the depressed people of Labrador. They were
especially fond of him, and his forty years of association
with them on the desolate coast secured a friendship hard
to break. His vessel was always the first to wedge her way
through the ice in the spring, and bring relief to the half-
starving people along the coast. He was now getting on
in years and felt that he must give up his business on
the bleak coast, and I fancied I saw the tears oozing
from under his eye-lids as he bade farewell to the
people in the various coves at which he called.
Arriving at Snack Cove I found the mission boat on
dock in an unfinished condition. The builder, Charles
Davis, was engaged at the salmon fishery, and in the
busy season could not lay aside his fishing and complete
our boat. There was no alternative, and very reluct;-
antly we left the boat on the dock and faced the un-
pleasant prospect of travelling around the mission with-
out a boat of our own.
We got passage in a small boat to Cartwright. Mr.
Swaffield, the Hudson's Bay Company's factor there,
sympathized with me in very kindly terms, as I related
the situation to him. But that was all he could do for
no suitable boat could be procured. There I was amidst
the isolations of Labrador, anxious to visit the people
45
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
thinly scattered over a coast-line of nearly three hundred
miles, and no boat to carry me along its needy shore.
After doing what visiting I could, under the circum-
stances, I managed to secure a passage in a fishing-boat
to Pack's Harbour, where we would meet the Virginia
Lake on her north-bound trip, and take passage for
Rigolet.
The steamer arrived in good time, and as I knew we
would have a night on board, and felt a little weary
from the experience of the past few days, I hurried to
the purser to secure a state-room.
"I am sorry, sir," he said, "but I can't give you a
bed to-night for they are all taken up. There is a large
number of American tourists on board, this trip. The
only thing we can do for you is to make up a bed on
the lounge in the smoking-room."
"All right," I said, and proceeded to the smoking-
rpom and sat on the lounge for nearly an hour, waiting
for the purser to bring me a blanket or two, but he forgot
to bring them. It was a chilly night and I lay on the
lounge cold and shivering, until finally I dropped off
to sleep.
In my sleep my father, who had been dead seventeen
years, appeared before me. His face shone and glistened
as gold in the sun. Glory filled the place where he was.
Not a word was spoken; in silence I beheld the perfect
sweetness of my father's face, the serenity of his coun-
46
FIRST DIFFICULTIES
tenance and the glory of his surroundings, until my own
soul seemed to take in the situation and share in the
glory of my father's abode. It was only a dream, and
perhaps a hallucination. I only give it as a part of rny
experience. My father made his decision for Christ at
the early age of twelve, and lived a Christian till he
died. Nothing would have given him greater pleasure
than to see one of his sons enter the Christian ministry;
it seemed to me that in that dream, in the beginning
of my ministry, he came to give me his smile and bene-
diction.
After a short stay at Lester's Point no opportunity of
getting up the bay presented itself, so I resolved to make
the trip north in a row-boat, which belonged to Charlie.
On the evening of the first day after a hard row of twenty-
five miles we landed at a hut, the home of Joseph Lloyd,
an Englishman, who found his way to Labrador when a
young man. He was one of the only two Englishmen then
living in Hamilton Inlet.
He and his half-breed wife were both sick. Their
condition was pitiable ; both were well-stricken in years,
and one was scarcely able to minister to the needs of the
other. Their son James and his family were living near
by, the only family within a radius of five miles.
The old man was very anxious to know how all the world
was getting on. After tea the two families gathered
together and we held a short service, which was enjoyed
47
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
by all. But two regular services were held in a year,
when the missionary made his bi-yearly visits. The
service being over, the old gentleman and his wife retired
to bed ; Charlie spread our sleeping-bags on the floor, we
crawled into them and enjoyed a good night's rest.
The next day we proceeded to Ratler's Bight. Here
we met Charles Allen, the other Englishman, a brother-
in-law of Joseph Lloyd. Allen was the father of a
large family and the boys being in from fishing, I called
the family together and we held a mid-day service.
During the service, Mrs. Allen and her three daughters
began to cry and sob. I saw that they were in trouble
about their souls and pointed them to Christ, the Saviour
of the world, and I believe they all found the peace of
His forgiving love. The service ended, we went on a
little farther to Winter's Cove.
At this little settlement I found three families who had
not seen a missionary of any denomination for three
years. They were very ignorant, and had big children
unbaptized. I tried to throw a ray of spiritual light
across their dark lives, and bring the Christ nearer
their hearts, but I did not seem to make much impres-
sion upon them, and after baptizing two children I bade
them good-bye, and have never seen them since.
A few miles farther we arrived at a little cove where
Charlie's brother and another family lived. This was
Saturday, August 23rd. We had service at this place
48
(a) George's Island from which Mr. Holmes was Rescued.
(b) God's Acre at Bluff Head, the Common Burying Ground for a Radius
of Fifty Miles.
(c) Putting a Coat of Paint on the New Mission Boat, " The Glad Tidings."
FIRST DIFFICULTIES
that night, and on Sunday morning a row of two or
three miles farther brought us to Indian Harbour,
where I met Dr. Simpson. Here I preached to a large
number of fishermen in the Deep Sea Mission Chapel.
In this place Dr. Grenfell has a hospital, which is operat-
ing during the summer season only, and where every
year several hundreds of fishermen receive free medical
treatment.
Dr. Simpson, who was then in charge of the Indian
Harbour hospital, is one of those rare Christian-gentle-
men characterized by self-denial and devotion to the
needs of others. He was born and educated in London,
England, the metropolis of the world,. but he left behind
him all the luxuries of that great city and gave his ser-
vices to the poor fishermen on the bleak coast of Labrador.
On Monday, Mr. Jerritt, of Brigus, who was doing
business at Indian Harbour, went in his small steamer
to Double Mer. He gave us a passage, and also towed
our boat. We touched in at Bluff Head, a small settle-
ment half way to Lester's Point, and found a number of
people gathered awaiting the burial of John Groves,
who had died, I believe, of appendicitis, at the latter
place the day after we left. This is the heroic
man who had the trying experience with Mr.
Holmes, related in a previous chapter. Mr. Jerritt
kindly waited for me to lay the good man to rest, and
also gave a passage to all the friends of the deceased,
E 49
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
who had gathered from around the bay at this, their
chosen burying place.
Shortly after leaving Bluff Head the mother of the
deceased called me to her side and gave me to under-
stand that she was in some kind of spiritual trouble.
My heart had gone out in sympathy for her as she
and her son Thomas wept together at the grave-side of
him whom they loved. The mother's heart is the same
everywhere. She had been, as far as I knew, a Christian
for many years, but now, bowed down with grief and tot-
tering on the border of the grave, she felt that God was
not as near her as she desired. Peace and comfort came
to her in the cabin of that little steamer as we ran along
over the ruffled sea.
By this time we were at the entrance of Double Mer,
and as we were getting into our little boat to row across
the bay Mr. Jerritt placed five dollars in my hand, an
additional kindness, for which I gave him my heartiest
thanks. Just at dusk we landed at Lester's Point.
CHAPTER VI.
MY FIRST TRIP UP HAMIIyTON
' '
The Julia Sheridan (a small steamer given to the
Deep Sea Mission by a Toronto lady) was engaged that
year carrying the mail from Indian Harbour to Kene-
mesh. As she was to pass Lester's Point about Septem-
ber first, I arranged with Dr. Simpson for a passage up
the bay.
Meanwhile another Sunday passed before the steamer
arrived at the Point on her way to the lumber-mill at
Kenemesh. The people from all the near-by places
gathered at the Point as usual, and God gave us a blessed
time. Four of my swarthy congregation gave their
hearts to God that day. Our feeble efforts were being
owned of God and the missionary had cause to rejoice
amidst his difficulties.
On September 1st the Julia Sheridan called for
me, and glad indeed was I with such a splendid oppor-
tunity to get to the head of the bay. It was not a
pleasant night and Captain Ash decided to put into St.
John's Harbour for the night. At 3 o'clock a.m.
we left again and arrived at Kenemesh at 3 p.m.
51
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
Captain Ash, as soon as he had delivered and received
his mails, returned again to Indian Harbour. I had not
taken Charlie with me on this trip, so I was now left
alone to visit from place to place as best I could, and
meekly wait till some way opened up for me to return
to Lester's Point.
Immediately after arriving at Kenemesh as I stood
upon the sand-bank of the beautiful River Kennimoo
I noticed a swarthy but exceptionally tall figure, ap-
proaching me; the nature of his movements suggested
that he had something very important to relate.
"Are you Mr. Young, the minister from Lester's
Point?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Well, I was just going down to Lester's Point to see
you, but I am glad you have come up. I want to you
marry me this evening."
"What is your name?"
"I am George McLeod, from Nova Scotia."
George, I learned, was a half-breed Indian from Nova
Scotia, who had been working for the Dickie Lumber
Company at Kenemesh the previous year, while the
woman whom he was marrying was a native half-
breed of Labrador, then a widow with three children.
The father of the bride, who disliked George, was not
in favor of the marriage, and at first strongly opposed it.
But as she was a middle-aged woman and a widow, and
52
MY FIRST TRIP UP HAMILTON INLET
taking into account other considerations, we felt under
existing conditions the proper thing to do was to unite
them in lawful wedlock.
After the wedding the bride and groom with their friends
went across the bay to North- West River, where a char-
acteristic Labrador wedding repast was enjoyed. The
missionary, anxious to visit the Hudson's Bay Company's
post, embraced the opportunity and went with the party.
Thomas McKenzie, the factor at the post, a kind-
hearted Scotchman, gave me a real welcome, and made
me feel at home. North- West River is the prettiest
spot in Hamilton Inlet. The scenery there is beautiful
and more so in contrast with the rugged appearance on
its immediate border, and the uninviting features of
the grim rocks and giant hills, so conspicuous around
the bay.
After tea as was my custom I called the people to-
gether in one of the company's houses, and gave them a
short service. The sermon preached was the first they
had heard since Mr. French had so earnestly expounded
to them the Word of Life, one cold night in the previous
January.
The only social amusement the people of Labrador in-
dulge in is dancing and they are very fond of it. They
often dance till late in the night, and sometimes till early
morning. Nobody thought, of course, that the wedding
would go off without a dance. The groom, who had
53
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
a deep respect for a religious teacher, but who undoubt-
edly was not acquainted with the doctrines and rules of
the Methodist Church, immediately after the close of
the service came to me and said:
"Mr. Young, will you allow us to have a dance here
to-night?"
I replied, "The house does not belong to me, and if
you insist on having a dance I have no power to hinder
you but I shall not give my consent to it. ' '
"Well," said George, "if you object to it we will not
have it," and there it ended.
The following day I returned to Kenemesh with the
party and preached that evening in a small house there,
in which the natives of the place and a few lumbermen
had gathered. That night Sandy Calder and his brother,
owners of one of the lumber concerns at Kenemesh,
having no spare bed, kindly offered me the couch in
their dining-room, which I gladly accepted.
The next day there was no opportunity of getting to
Lester's Point and no means of visiting any other place
around the head of the bay ; so I spent most of the day
strolling along the sand-banks of the river, talking to
the men, and viewing the beautiful scenery. The head
of the bay is level and fertile, and the banks of the rivers
flowing into it are lined with stately timber.
A more important man than the missionary arrived
at Kenemesh that day, consequently the couch was
54
MY FIRST TRIP UP HAMILTON INLET
denied me. I went to the best house among the "liv-
yers" and sought lodgings for the night.
"There is plenty of room yer, Mr. Young," he said.
"I have no sleeping-bag with me."
" I have one you can use, " he replied.
I thanked him.
I was not the only visitor to that home that evening;
three others, a man and his wife and mother, sought
lodgings in the same hospitable house. The visitors
had brought, not seal-skin sleeping-bags, but two bags
of bed clothing. This is customary in Labrador, for
they have no spare beds in their houses and all visitors
are expected to bring their beds with them. The seal-
skin bag was brought in from the porch and spread on
the kitchen floor for me. The visitors too were prepar-
ing for bed, and soon the clothes were emptied on the
floor and two beds were prepared a foot or two from my
sleeping-bag. Removing only my coat I crawled into
the bag and was fast asleep before the others retired,
and at dawn I was on the stroll again.
Mr. Calder was sending his little steam-launch to
Cartwright. She was altogether unsuitable to traverse
the rough waters of that great bay. The weight of the
heavy engine brought the gunwales of the afterpart
of the boat almost flush with the water, while the engine
itself was untrustworthy, as its valves were continually
giving out. It was the only opportunity of getting
55
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
down the bay which I was likely to get for many days, so
very reluctantly I embraced it. When we were leaving
the mill Mr. Calder said:
"Young, that boat will be your coffin."
The first day we had a moderate breeze in our favor
and we made a good day's run, covering possibly sixty
miles. The engineer being anxious to get to Cartwright
as soon as possible, and the weather being fine, he de-
cided to run all night. The engine so far had given us
no trouble and we anticipated reaching Rigolet by day-
light. None of us knew the course; we were running
by guess, a foolish thing to do. Mr. Calder ought to
have put some man in the boat who knew the course.
The engineer belonged to Boston, the other man lived
at Cartwright, and not one of us had ever been up that
bay before. It was with great difficulty that we kept
the little launch clear of the many islands along our
route. We learned afterwards that only two islands
lay near the ship's run, and that we must have been in
the shallow waters of Valley's Bight, where numerous
little islands were situated. The wonder is we did not
run upon a sand-bank and swamp our little boat.
When daylight came we were still upon the bosom of
the bay ; we had not yet reached the narrows of the inlet,
where we knew Rigolet lay, and where the narrows
were we had no idea, save that we imagined they lay
directly ahead. But we were still in the open expanse
56
MY FIRST TRIP UP HAMILTON INLET
of water and the distance we had already covered would,
we believed, have taken us far beyond Rigolet. Besides
this, the appearance of the land around us was entirely
unlike that which we had seen on our way up the inlet.
At this juncture a new and more trying difficulty
presented itself in the breaking down of the engine, a
mishap we had been dreading. It was now blowing a
strong breeze from the north-west and the engine
giving out every ten minutes, taking the same time to
repair it, made matters very trying indeed. Fortunately
the wind was in our favour, and the thought that wewere
drifting towards Rigolet was, at least to the missionary,
a source of consolation. But, alas ! if we had only known
it we were drifting farther away from it.
In this way we continued till 4 o'clock in the after-
noon when the bay seemed to be closing in, and we felt
sure we were getting near the narrows. When we came
to what we supposed was the entrance tp Rigolet, to our
surprise there was no entrance there. The engineer
said to me: "The entrance is on the other side of the
bay. " So we steamed to the other side, but found solid
land all the way across as though we were at the head
of the bay. We were absolutely unable to account for
this. Could it be possible that we had turned our boat
around in the night and were now at the head of the
bay? We had no compass, no chart, no log, nothing
to tell us what to do or what had been done. It was
57
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
a very blind affair. We found no livyers here, and for
that reason thought it could not be the head of the bay.
We were in a rather unfortunate position; our small
supply of coal was getting short, our rations were almost
exhausted, and we were utterly unable to locate our
position. The only thing we could do was to retrace
our course, and try to find the entrance to Rigolet; this
we did. It was slow progress with a strong wind ahead,
and the time occupied repairing the engine was almost
equal to the time under steam. For two hours we
proceeded in this way, steaming forwards two miles
and driving back one, when to our delight, looking up
the bay, we saw a boat bearing down upon us. We
would now have the consolation, at least, of knowing
where we were.
As the boat came alongside the engineer said :
"Hello, men, can you tell us where we are?" They
lowered their sail and hauled in alongside.
"What place is this?" we asked eagerly.
"This is Back Bay," they replied, "and we are
moving down yer for the winter."
"How far is it to Rigolet?"
"About forty miles, sir."
We had gone down an arm, the entrance of which is
twelve miles above Rigolet, and runs down twenty
miles beyond it. One of the men, being very inquisitive
as to our purpose in coming in this arm, said to me :
"What ded ya come down yer fer?"
58
MY FIRST TRIP UP HAMILTON INLET
I felt rather ashamed of our mistake and put him off
without giving him any satisfaction, whereupon he
turned to the engineer with a look of real earnestness
in his eyes and repeated his question.
"Oh," said the engineer, "we are taking this thing
down to Car tw right. "
"But," he said more vigorously than ever, "what ded
ya come down yer fer?"
When we realized the situation we did not wonder at
the remark of our friend, for to go to Cartwright, in
the direction we had taken, meant a steam of twelve
miles through solid land.
As the sun went down, kissing the tree tops as it de-
parted, the wind gradually moderated, and by the time
the sun had hid behind the hills the waters of the bay
were beautifully calm. The men had pointed out to us
the direction to Rigolet but the engine had become almost
useless, and on their return trip they found us at 10
o'clock p.m. lying in the calm and towed us to the shore.
We boiled the kettle, had some tea, and about mid-
night lay down in the launch and tried to get a little
sleep. But the night was very chilly, and being without
bed-clothes, sleep was almost impossible.
It took the engineer two hours the next morning to
get the engine in working order and it was not till 8
o'clock that we were ready for a start. We hoped,
however, that after thorough overhauling the engine
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
would serve us better than it did the previous day, but
in this we were disappointed.
There is a tremendous tide in the narrows, and as
we were crossing a large bight in the direction of an is-
land that lies close to the entrance we got caught in
this tide which ran in all directions like furious beasts,
and focussed in one place, causing a mighty whirlpool.
Almost in less time than it takes to write it our little
boat was carried into this whirlpool, and held helpless
in its grip. I was at the wheel at the time and managed
to keep the boat stern to the seas. One sea broke over
her stern and I thought we were done; if now the engine
gave out she would turn broadside and all would soon
be over. I was just in the act of turning to speak to
the men and to enquire about their souls, which I
thought would be my last duty upon earth, when I
saw to my delight that we were on the edge of this vor-
tex of water. In a minute more we were drifted out of
it altogether, and soon reached the island in safety.
Our coal was now exhausted, so we landed and
gathered some wood to make a dash for Rigo-
let, which was about four miles distant. Just
after we started again and turned a point of the
island we saw a hut on the bank yonder; smoke was
rising from the chimney a sure sign of life within.
The engineer decided to land again and make inquiries
about the tide, the distance to Rigolet, etc.
60
MY FIRST TRIP UP HAMILTON INLET
We knocked at the door of the hut and a rough-looking
Eskimo of seventy years of age appeared.
"How far is it to Rigolet?"
"Three miles."
"And is the tide running in or out?"
"Good, but if you 'old on a little longer it 'ill be
better."
I informed the old man that I was the missionary from
Lester's Point. He was very anxious for me to come in,
and as the engineer decided to get a lunch before making
the final start for Rigolet I thought I could spend the
few minutes in no better way than in chatting with the
old man and his family, so I went in.
The hut was dark, dirty and dismal. There was no
table, no chair, no bed or furniture of any kind save an
oil-can, which served for a stove, and a small box on
which I sat. The mother and daughter were sitting
on the floor working at some fancy work of which all
the Eskimos are very fond.
I found that only the old man could speak English,
nevertheless I read a few verses of scripture and prayed
with the family, then wished them " good-bye" and walk-
ed over the hill to the beach where I expected to join
the men at lunch. But instead, I saw that our launch
was aground and the disappointed men were exerting
all their strength in trying to get her off the rocks.
When they were preparing lunch, unconsciously to
61
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
them, the tide was falling and by the time I appeared
the boat was hard aground, with the propeller nicely
fitted inside a large rock, over which we had to throw
her in order to float her again.
I ran to their assistance. The old Eskimo came also,
bringing an axe with him; we cut a stick which we put
under the keel of the boat and hove for all our might.
For twenty minutes we worked at her, lifting beyond
our ordinary strength. We did not view with pleasure
the prospect of spending another night on the rocks, so
after trying and trying again we made one supreme
effort and over the rock our boat went and to our delight
was afloat again.
The tide was in our favour and in a few minutes we
hoped to reach Rigolet. The fire was going low and the
steam was going off the boiler fast.
"Get the axe," said the engineer to his helper, "and
cut off some wood quick."
The axe could not be found; in the rush it had been
left ashore. There we were, all our coal gone, with wood
aboard, but all too long for use, drifting along by Rigolet
at a speed of six miles an hour, unable to get steam
enough to reach it, now that it was in sight. Indeed we
were in danger of drifting to sea, unless someone came
to our rescue. It seemed to me that a struggle was
going on somewhere to bring about the literal fulfil-
ment of the prophecy of Sandy Calder: "Young, that
62
MY FIRST TRIP UP HAMILTON INLET
launch will be your coffin." The engineer as the last
extremity broke up with his feet the small box in which
we had our food. This fortunately gave us steam
enough to get us sufficiently near to the land, a mile
below Rigolet, to take the up-eddy along the shore, and
in a few minutes we were safely landed at the post, glad
indeed that we had escaped with our lives.
The engineer decided to abandon the steam-launch at
Rigolet and proceed to Cartwright in a small row-boat.
The men spent the night with me at Lester's Point, and
left for Cartwright the next morning. Thus ended my
first trip up Hamilton Inlet.
63
CHAPTER VJI.
WEEKS IN PARADISE.
When the stormy month of October sets in, travelling
by boat is unwise and unsafe, and as the ice on the bays
is seldom safe till the middle of December, the mis-
sionary of necessity gets a rest from hard travelling,
at least three months in the year.
Previous to my time in Labrador the missionary spent
his autumn and spring, when travelling was impossible,
at headquarters, Lester's Point. The existing condi-
tions at the Point that year made it almost impossible
for me to follow the old plan; and besides I preferred
to spend the autumn where the most people were. The
families at the Point and most of the people in the
adjacent places in the bay were removing, some to the
lumber-mill and others to their winter hunting-grounds.
So I resolved to close up the Mission House for the
winter and spend the autumn at Paradise, Sandwich
Bay.
Charlie and his family left for Mud Lake on Oc-
tober 1st, and I spent that night in the Mission House
alone. The next day I crossed the bay to Rigolet,
F 65
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
where in a few days I was to take passage on the Julia
Sheridan for Cartwright.
That night, long after dark, I noticed a small row-
boat manned by two men and two women, coming
alongside the wharf. One of the men as he crawled up
over the wharf said: "Mr. Young, will you marry us?"
"Oh, yes," I said, "how many of you are getting
married?"
"We be all geten married, sir."
I went to Mr. Fraser, the factor, and asked for a
place in which to perform the marriage ceremony.
"All right," he said, "join them together down there
in the cook-house."
It was an interesting sight to Mr. Calder and other
Nova Scotians who were present, to see those two
Labrador couples with their everyday clothes on gather
in the old-fashioned Hudson's Bay Company's cook-
house, to take upon them the solemn marriage vows.
The following day the happy couples proceeded up the
bay to the lumber mill.
One of the brides was Charlie Allen's daughter, whose
name has already been mentioned and to whom we
shall again refer. Charlie was rather eccentric, and
positively refused to let his daughter go with her
affianced the fifty miles to Lester's Point, without being
married. So he called in John Williams, an old man
who lived near by, who could read a little, and got him to
66
TEN WEEKS IN PARADISE
read something (I know not what) over his daughter
and her future husband, "just to do them until they
got to Rigolet where they could be married by the
minister." One of the natives at Rigolet speaking to
me of this temporary marriage, said: "I s'pose, sir,
Mr. Williams jest put 'em together enough so as to do
till they seen you."
On October 6th I started for Paradise. Captain
Ash was then taking the Julia Sheridan to St. John's.
In the evening the water became very rough and the
captain thought it wise to take shelter, and ran into
Pack's Harbour for the night. The steamer went up
Sandwich Bay as far as Dove Brook, where Mr. Calder
had a mill. This place is only fifteen miles from Para-
dise, and from there I went in a small boat, arriving at
9 o'clock at night.
The man who accompanied me there took me to the
home of Robert Mesher, then an old man seventy-
seven years of age. Mrs. Mesher, noticing my over-
coat and thinking I must be a man of special import-
ance, said with astonishment:
"And who is this you have brought with you, Charlie
Pardy?"
"This is the new min'ster, ma'am," he replied, where-
upon she grasped me with both hands, and after hold-
ing my hand for some time she almost dragged me to
the table, where the old gentleman was sitting wonder-
67
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
ing what strange man had come to his home; he was
very hard of hearing, and up to this time did not know
what was being said.
"This is the new min'ster, Robert," she said, and
she began literally to jump about the room, exclaiming:
" I am so glad, we'll have, prayers now all the time. Oh,
I am so glad."
A more hearty welcome I could not possibly have
received than was given me by the people of Paradise.
Quite a number of the neighbours gathered at Mr.
Mesher's that night, late as it was, to see "the new
min'ster." It was late in the night when they left,
still Mrs. Mesher's tongue was going, and the excite-
ment prevented any sleep from coming into her eyes.
I was rather weary from the journey and felt more like
sleeping than chatting all night, and wished that she
would suggest that I go to bed. Of course I did not
know whether there was a bed for me, or whether I
would have to sleep in my sleeping-bag on the kitchen
floor, during my three months' stay there.
Finally the old gentleman, thinking it was time we retired,
looked up at the old lady and said in his rough way : "I
think it's time to steer for Blanket Bay and to 'ave too
under Cape Rug." I was given a large feather bed and
a bedroom all to myself, a luxury Labrador seldom is
able to give to a traveller, no matter who he may be.
Paradise, in comparison with most places on the
Labrador, as its name suggests, is an ideal spot. It is
68
fa) Rev. A. A. Holmes, Missionary, in Sleeping-bag, Ready for the
(b) Next Morning.
Night.
TEN WEEKS IN PARADISE
a beautiful little harbour, situated at the head of Sand-
wich Bay. It is lined with a coat of small spruce, and
one of the largest rivers flowing into the bay runs into
it. This formerly teemed with trout and salmon. The
shores of the harbour are dotted with a dozen small
houses, and a school-building, in which school is taught
occasionally, and in which service is held. They now also
have a nice little church there.
The people are natives of Labrador and mostly half-
breeds. They are kind-hearted, full of simple generos-
ity, are very religious, and possess a better knowledge
of the outer world than their neighbours in Hamil-
ton Inlet. I soon began to feel at home among this
simple, kind-hearted and religious people and Paradise
was to me, during my two years on the coast, a place
of repose.
Robert and his good wife did their best to make the
missionary comfortable. Their simple, free and un-
affected kindness will never be forgotten. Mrs.
Mesher was led to Christ by Mr. Newman, and
I often heard her thank God for the faithful
work of that devoted man who led her into the light of
salvation. Robert, like most of the Eskimos and half-
breeds of Labrador, was very fond of singing, and took
great delight in leading the singing in our little school-
house. He was seventy-seven years of age yet his
voice was still strong, clear and musical.
69
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
Formerly it was the custom for the Eskimo mother
to carry her infant child all day long in a hood on her
back. She cooked, washed, attended her rabbit snares,
cut wood and did everything else she had to do with
the child on her back.
There is a story told of an old woman of this settle-
ment, who had a very narrow escape in this connection
when a child. Her father, when she was an infant, was
suffering from mental aberration, which made him a
dangerous person. There were no doctors in Labrador
in those days, and as for the asylum, the proper place
for the man, they did not know that such a place ex-
isted and if they did it would not have helped them
much. Several times he had acted violently and would
have done something serious had he not been prevented
by those watching him.
One morning when his wife with the child on her
back left the house to attend her rabbit snares, about
half a mile distant, he took his gun and followed her.
He watched her very closely and just as she was stoop-
ing to take a rabbit out of the snare, he fired a load of
powder and shot, which blew the mother's head to
pieces; the infant upon her shoulders escaped unhurt.
During my three months' stay in Paradise a dozen
young people were brought to Christ; that was at least
half the youth of the place. The believers were
strengthened and revived and all were delighted and
70
TEN WEEKS IN PARADISE
profited by the almost three months' continuous ser-
vices. This was the first time in all their lives they
had enjoyed such privileges, and many of them were
beyond the seventieth year mark.
One Sunday morning a young married woman was so
affected by the sermon, that she knelt down in the snow on
her way home from service and prayed most pathetic-
ally to God for pardon. The temperature was about
zero, but it was useless to advise her, to go home and
pray or to return to the church, so the missionary, too,
knelt in the snow and prayed. That woman was a
pitiable sight pleading so earnestly for deliverance
from the burden of sin while exposed to the inclemency
of a Labrador's winter day. There was a lack of faith
and it was several months before she fully realized the
touch of God's loving hand. But God will surely
reward such earnestness, and at last it came to her in a
clear consciousness of her acceptance with Christ.
Reader, are you in possession of that blessing? If not,
it would be well for you to take a leaf from the experi-
ence of this poor Labrador woman.
It was here that I first met the Mountaineer Indians.
Every year they travel across southern Labrador, from
the St. Lawrence to Sandwich Bay or Hamilton Inlet.
They leave the St. Lawrence early in the autumn and
travel slowly, completing the journey a few days before
Christmas. A week before Christmas a gang of five
71
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
families camped four miles from Paradise and came out
to trade. They were an interesting-looking crowd with
their long, dark hair, dark faces and extremely hungry
appearance, and especially the women with their long
pipes in their mouths.
I visited their camp. They had five small calico tents
put together in one large tent, in which the gang of five
families lived. Bach family occupied its own part of
the tent. Of course even the most ordinary furniture
is out of the question among Indians; they have no
use for such incumbrances. The floor of the tent con-
sisted of a carpet of spruce boughs, upon which they all
sat, turning their feet in under them. We chatted with
the men the women could not talk English and
prayed with them. Then one of the Indians sang a
hymn in the Mountaineer language. They were very
reverent and seemed to appreciate my visit. They
were Roman Catholics and their spiritual requirements
are seen to by the priests, during the summer when the
Indians live on the St. Lawrence coast.
Christmas in Labrador does not bring with it the
same cheer and happiness that it does in more favoured
lands. The children do not receive the same considera-
tion and attention. Santa Claus, it is true, sometimes
makes his appearance, but it is only a scanty supply that
he can gather from the ice-bound coast and snow-capped
hills of Labrador. Most of the children do not even
72
TEN WEEKS IN PARADISE
get a card to cheer their hearts and remind them of the
meaning of the day.
The 28th of December was the day I had appointed
to start on my long komatik journey around the mission.
The feeling expressed by the people in our last service
showed how much they regretted losing their preacher.
It was expected then that nine months would elapse
before they would have the privilege of hearing another
sermon, and they felt it keenly.
The missionary, too, felt the parting. The people
had come to him with all their troubles, and he had entered
into their feelings. He was leaving behind a very kind-
hearted and affectionate people and a dozen young
converts without a shepherd.
On the morning of my departure a number of people
gathered at the home of Mr. Robert Mesher to wish
the missionary "good-bye" and to extend to him their
best wishes. As I bade them farewell the affectionate
people wept like a mother when parting with her only
son. Thus we parted, with tears trickling down their
faces and with a feeling of real loneliness in my own
heart.
We shall hear of Paradise again.
73
CHAPTER VIII.
A TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY MIU$ JOURNEY ON KOMATIK.
The first day we went to Dove Brook. That was my
first ride on komatik, and I should have enjoyed it
much better had it not been for the painful effect of the
morning's parting which followed me all day. At Dove
Brook I met Charlie, my guide, who had come from
Mud Lake after me. From him I learned for the first
time the sad news that Leonidas Hubbard had died of
starvation in October thirty-three miles from the head
of Grand Lake, and that Dillon Wallace had barely
escaped with his life. We were all very sorry for we
had hoped that the expedition would have met with a
more pleasant ending.
I was taken to the home of a Mr. Scott, a Canadian,
who had spent five years in the employ of the Hudson's
Bay Company on the coast and who at this time was
running a business of his own at Dove Brook. We
had a little service at his house that night. Mrs.
Scott played the organ and the music was a real treat
indeed.
I went to Cartwright and south to Sand Hill, preach-
ing in practically every place where there was a Meth-
75
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
odist family. At Cartwright there was a Church of
England school teacher, who held services on Sundays,
while all the Church of England people between Cart-
wright and Battle Harbour were visited by the Anglican
clergyman stationed at the latter place.
At Goose Cove when I. was preaching, one of our dogs
cut off his trace and made his escape. We had a very
small team at the start only six now we were reduced
to five. A first-class team would be eiglit or ten good
dogs. In consequence of our poor team we had to
walk a great deal, especially when the going was bad.
This necessitated a slow journey; for a good team of
dogs can get over the ice quite quickly.
Charlie was continually talking about our poor team
of dogs. Sometimes after I had retired to my sleeping-
bag I could overhear his conversation about the dogs.
He was speaking to the host and it ran like this: "Ah,
b'y, if I only had the team I had las' yer I git 'long
all right; way 'tis our team no good. I had to lave
Daisy at 'ome, and Tom no good parkapines got 'old
him las yer and spiled him. Two young uns can't do
'ardly anyt'ing, only broke in few days 'fore I left."
My travelling outfit, in addition to my ordinary
clothes, consisted of a pair of seal-skin pants, a sweater,
an adikey, a pair of seal-skin mittens, a pair of moccasins,
and a storm-hood. Of course we always took a sleep-
ing-bag, which was made of seal-skin also and lined
76
A JOURNEY ON KOMATIK
with thick blanketing. The hole in the end of it was
just big enough for a man to crawl through and on each
side of it was a flap which could be buttoned over after
you got in. This is essential; for some of the houses
are very cold when the fire goes out at night. Even the
coldest frost of the Arctic regions cannot pierce through
a good sleeping-bag, and you can kick and turn over as
often as you wish without the danger of removing the
clothes or falling out of bed. Without the sleeping-bag
it would be impossible to travel in winter in Labrador,
because the people are too poor to supply you with
bedding. Most of them have not sufficient for them-
selves, and I often wondered why some of them did
not freeze to death during the cold winter nights. A
good sleeping-bag costs about twenty dollars, and with
care will last many years.
Travelling on komatik, being a new experience to me,
was rather interesting. In the morning there would be
some difficulty in getting all the dogs harnessed and
fastened to the komatik. They were always eager to
be of! and often would drag the trace out of my hand
before I had time to fasten it to the komatik. As soon
as we were ready for a start, Charlie gave the command
"ooisht" and instantly they were off at a gallop. The
going was good and though our team was poor the dogs
took us over the ice and across portages at a rapid pace.
We were now in the depth of winter and the keen,
77
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
piercing frost was stimulating and invigorating, and
travelling was really enjoyable. All the people looked
forward to this visit by the missionary with keen anti-
cipation, and in every humble home I got a hearty
welcome. They were all very poor and could offer the
missionary but a very meagre meal, but such as they
had they gave willingly. Some of the people were very
badly off.
On the 14th January we reached Valley's Bight,
having covered nearly two hundred miles since leaving
Paradise, on the 28th December. Of course we might
have covered twice that distance in that time, but I was
the missionary and had to spend a night at practically
every place, as all expected a service from me. One could
not have the heart to pass them by, for a year would
elapse before he could visit them again. I was the only
missionary in Hamilton Inlet, a great fiord nearly two
hundred miles deep, and the people were scattered all
along its shore. The number of families living in one
place varied from one to three, but seldom exceeded
that number.
I think most preachers would find it more difficult to
preach to a family or two than to a large congregation,
and there is always the temptation to reserve the best
for the larger congregation. I felt that temptation:
but how could I yield to it with the example of Jesus
before me? Did He not say some of His best and sub-
78
A JOURNEY ON KOMATIK
limest things to a solitary individual? To Nicodemus
He expounded the unfathomable mysteries of the New
Birth, and to the woman of Samaria the eternal value
of the living water, of which He was the only Source.
I had something good to tell, to be sure, for the Gospel
of Christ is man's most precious possession which he
has inherited from the divine-human Christ, but I
could not tell it half well enough for the poorest and
most ignorant half-breed of Labrador, who drank in
every word as it fell from my lips.
It was, to put it mildly, rather discouraging to see the
majority of the people, to whom I was sent to preach
the Word of Life, but once or twice a year. While at
Valley's Bight, where we were detained several days by
a heavy snowstorm, I had leisure to think upon these
things. What is the use of two sermons a year any-
way, if you cannot get more than that? Why spend
the money and why shut a man up amidst the bleak
isolations of Labrador when you can give the people
there only such a meagre service? What benefit do the
people receive, after all, from one or two flying visits
from a missionary while all the rest of the year they are
without spiritual help?
But a casual study of conditions would convince
anyone of the bereft t of those flying visits from the ser-
vant of God. This was their one and only outward
link that united them to the Church of God. It showed
79
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
these poor, unfortunate people that they were not for-
gotten by the church, whose Founder came to preach
the gospel to the poor. Ay, and many of those half-
breeds who heard but one or two sermons a year were
living lives that, from a moral and religious point of
view, would put to shame many who live within a
stone's cast of a church. Swearing is almost unknown
among them. Those who do swear have learned to do
so, either from the Newfoundlanders on the coast, or
from the Nova Scotians at the lumber-mills. Many of
our young men become notable swearers as a result of
the baneful influence of those who should have taught
them better things.
The poverty of the people, of which we saw much
as we went along over our mission, was always
a source of pain to the missionary. At Flat
Water, when we passed, a mother with an infant on her
breast had nothing to eat excepting bread without
butter, and tea without sugar or molasses. In other
words, as the people of Labrador say, "She had nothing
to eat but dry bread and raw tea."
This was early in January and the only possible
chance of getting anything better till July lay in the
hope that her husband might catch an otter or silver
fox, which hope she clung to with brave optimism.
Such furs could be bartered at Rigolet for food and
clothing, but the possibility of such a catch in that local-
80
A JOURNEY ON KOMATIK
ity was small. Whose heart would not be touched in
seeing a fond mother, with her infant child, nibbling
away at a bit of dry crust, without even the luxury
of butter or salt meat? Was it any wonder she looked
poor, thin and haggard? I fancy I can see that poor
woman now, with her haggard face and pitiable
expression. I know there are many even now living
under the same conditions in Labrador, where the diet
is extremely poor at its best. Such commodities as
vegetables and fruit are practically unknown to the
people.
We arrived at Valley's Bight in a snowstorm which
continued four days. This made the going bad
and there was no hope of getting the slightest lift on
the komatik; our team was scarcely able to haul our
load.
Bill Shephard, as he is called, is the only livyer in
this place, and a comical fellow is Bill. In his younger
days, like most of the Labrador people, he was fond of
the dance. He was not able to read, but someone had
told him the Bible says there is a time for all things
and there is a time to dance.
He said to me: "Do you believe that's the kind of
dancing we have on the Labrador that the Bible spakes
of?"
"No," I replied, "I don't believe anything of the
kind." He replied very vigorously and excitedly, "Well,
den, I do."
G 81
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
It was of no use, of course, to try to convince him
otherwise.
On the 18th we left Bill Shephard's, the nearest
family being twenty miles distant. The wind was
blowing a gale in our faces, the temperature was nearly
forty below zero, and the snow was deep and heavy.
The dogs soon became fatigued, so our progress was
slow. We had travelled only a couple of miles when
Charlie remarked:
"Mr. Young, you are froze."
"Where?"
"Your neck is froze."
Putting my hand to my neck I found it was hard and
stiff. Charlie, by the application of snow, soon brought
the frost out. I put my stormhood over my head, and
that was the first and last time I was bitten with the
frost while I was in Labrador.
It was evident that we were in for a hard day's travel.
The frost was sharp and keen, the atmosphere was
crisp; the Mealy Mountains stretched before us like
giants in the air, while everything around us was held
in the grip of winter's icy hand. Before us, as far as the
eye could see, was a carpet of fleecy white, while looking
down upon us were the stern, adamantine hills that wall
the north side of the inlet.
I had neglected to provide myself with a pair of snow-
shoes suitable for this country. The pair I had taken
82
A JOURNEY ON KOMATIK
with me from Newfoundland were wrongly shaped and
altogether too small for the deep snow around the
Hamilton Fiord. The straps were made of hard seal-
skin, instead of the soft deer-skin such as is used in
Labrador. The biting frost that day froze those seal-
skin straps around my feet like bars of iron and made
travelling painful. As the sun was setting behind the
hills I saw a house peeping through the trees from a low
strip of land, a mile distant. A half -hour later we were
shaking hands with Mrs. Robert Baikie and her sister
at the Lowland. My feet were chafed a little and we
were somewhat tired after the hard day's travel; soon
we forgot the experience of the day as we sat by the
warm fire in that little log hut nestled among the trees.
Those two women, with five small children, were liv-
ing alone; their nearest neighbours were the Shephard
family at Valley's Bight, which we had left in the morn-
ing. Mr. Baikie was gone to the head of Grand Lake
to attend his fur traps, and would be away for a month
or more. I said to Mrs. Baikie:
"Are you not lonely here with your husband away,
and no family nearer than twenty miles?"
"No, sir," she answered, "I am never lonely."
Before retiring we held a short service which the
family enjoyed very much.
The silence of the north, if I may use that expression,
can almost be felt, and the people, accustomed as they
83
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
are to living alone, have lost to a large degree that social
instinct so prominent in larger centres. It is a native's
delight to settle down in a cosy place among the trees
several miles from any other family. No doubt, tem-
poral necessities have helped to establish this custom.
Living thus gives each man a large portion of hunting-
ground, and enables him to obtain a livelihood more
easily than if all clustered in little villages. If they
congregated they would, of necessity, have to pene-
trate deeper into the interior in search for furs, which
would mean harder work and not as good returns.
Bach man, according to the custom of the coast, owns
that patch of land stretching on either side of his log-
hut, and extending to his neighbour's boundary line, a
distance of ten, twenty and even forty miles. Over all
this stretch of land traps are set to catch any fur-bear-
ing animals that may be there.
But while there is this advantage there are many dis-
advantages resulting from this manner of living. The
social faculty has little opportunity for development:
it affords practically no possibility for any but the most
meagre education, while a definite course of spiritual
training could not be attempted.
As I crawled out of my sleeping-bag the next morn-
ing and peeped through the corner of the ice-cased win-
dow, I saw by the hard and frosty appearance of the
sky that we were going to have another bitterly cold day.
84
\
A JOURNEY ON KOMATIK
"'Tis too cold for you to travel this mornin', Mr.
Young," said Mrs. Baikie, as she saw me getting ready
to start. When I opened the door of the hut and went
out I never felt anything so keen as that morning air.
The poor dogs were lying in a double on the icy snow
with their noses between their hind legs.
"Charlie, give these poor, perishing hounds some-
thing to eat before we start on our hard day's travel."
"Dat wouldn't do, sir. If you feed 'em you git no
good of r em. All they need, sir, is one male a day in
the evenin'."
I found afterwards that Charlie was right. These
wolf-dogs are useless all day if they get a morning meal.
One meal a day in the evening is sufficient for an Eskimo
dog. Given good going they will run the whole day
with their tongues out about three inches, without a
bite to eat. At first I thought that was cruel, but it is
the only way one can get any work out of a Labrador
dog.
We started off and the going was so bad that I had
to make a trail for the dogs, while Charlie helped them
to get the komatik along.
"How far is it, Charlie, to Pearl River, where the
Chaulk families live?" I asked.
"Twenty- two miles, sir."
"And is there no one living nearer than that?"
"No, sir."
86
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
"No tilt or anything in which we could take shelter
in case of storm?"
"Not a t'ing."
The temperature was forty degrees below zero that
day, the coldest Hamilton Inlet had witnessed for a
long time. The dogs were never worse and it was with
difficulty that they could haul the komatik through the
deep snow. Everything around had a cold, rugged and
stern appearance. The sun came peeping over the hill;
but as he skimmed along by the horizon he had but
little power to subdue the effect of the terrible frost.
My feet began to chafe. The friction caused by the
hard straps of my snow-shoes was producing severe
pain, and I could feel that with every step I made the
sores on both feet were getting deeper. The heavy
walking, the severe cold, my sore feet, all combined,
made travelling a misery that day.
After walking many hours and thinking we must be
getting near Pearl River I stopped and waited for
Charlie, who was a few hundred yards behind with the
komatik.
"We must be very near to Pearl River now, are we
not?" I said.
"We be just half-way now, sir. Wot's the matter
wi yah feet?"
"The snow-shoe straps are chafing them, Charlie."
"'Tis too cold fer yah to tek off yah boots yer, sir."
A JOURNEY ON KOMATIK
We went into the bush near by, burrowed a hole in
the snow, lit a fire and made some tea, which refreshed
us very much. However, it was too severely cold to
remove my moccasins and fix up my feet; neither could
I remedy the straps in any way, so on we went. It
was with a sense of relief that just at dusk I saw smoke
rising up from a patch of woods yonder. Never was I
more glad to see smoke rising from a chimney.
It was not long before I appeared before the open
door of Chaulk's house.
" Good evenin' sir. You be the new min'ster, I s'pose?' '
"Yes. This is a cold day, Mr. Chaulk."
"Yes, sir, the coldest ever I seen in my life."
When I brushed the snow off my moccasins, to my
surprise, I saw that they were encased with blood. Mr.
Chaulk was much frightened.
"Tek off your moccasins and see how your feet is,
Mr. Young," said Mrs. Chaulk.
Being saturated with blood the moccasins and socks
were frozen together. I was afraid my feet were badly
frozen, which might prove serious without medical aid.
When I thawed my socks apart and removed them I
found there was nothing more serious than that two
toes on each foot were chafed nearly to the bone.
After tea the two families of this settlement gathered
for service. Resting one knee on a chair, and one foot
lightly on the floor, I conducted a short service, after
87
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
which I retired to my sleeping bag and slept as only a
tired man can do, till daylight.
I could not wear snow-shoes the next day. Mrs. Daniel
Campbell's winter quarters were at Muligan, four miles
farther up the bay, so I resolved to go to her hospitable
home and rest awhile. It was hard travelling as I had
to wade through about two feet of snow without snow-
shoes. After nearly three hours of labourious work we
arrived at Mrs. Campbell's and were welcomed in good
Labrador style to the home of the oldest lady in the bay.
I remained with her four days; and what interesting
days these were to me ! Her good memory enabled her
to relate interesting stories about the old Eskimos, the
first comers from England, Lord Strathcona's dealings
with the people, etc. It was her one wish now to be
near a minister when she was passing out of this world.
This comfort was not granted, however, but the Master
was there Himself, which was infinitely better.
On January 25th I left Muligan and arrived at
North-West River the following day. Here I met
George Elson, the Indian guide, who had accompanied
Hubbard and Wallace in the wild. Wallace was at
Kenemesh under Dr. Hardy's care, while the body of
Mr. Hubbard was still lying under the snow, seventy
miles from North-West River. At 'this place that
remarkable man, the late Lord Strathcona, then Donald
Smith, spent several of his seventeen years in Labrador.
88
A JOURNEY ON KOMATIK
He accomplished many remarkable tasks during his
long life, but the greatest, perhaps, was his endurance
of the isolations and privations of Labrador for so
many years.
The next day I proceeded to Mud Lake, the terminus
of the mission. Thus after a month of arduous travels
over the ice ; . through snow, across portages, under diffi-
cult and trying conditions, I looked forward with plea-
sure to a short rest.
89
CHAPTER IX.
A FEW WEEKS AT MUD LAKE.
Mud Lake was then the winter headquarters in Lab-
rador of Dickie and Company; and as this place was
the centre of activity in the bay I purposed to spend a
couple of months there. With this in view, I had ar-
ranged in the summer with one of the natives of Mud
Lake, whom I met at Rigolet, for two months' lodgings
with him during the winter. This man had deposited
several hundred dollars in the bank that year, so I
expected his home was the best in the place. He was
a widower and his mother, a woman sixty-five years of
age, was keeping house for him.
On arriving at his home I introduced myself to the
old lady and was invited in. I had to stoop consider-
ably to get into the porch, and when I entered the
kitchen discovered it to be the only room in the house.
On either side of this kitchen was a table on one of
which was a sewing machine; in the centre of the room
was a large stove, while at one end was a stool on which
stood two water pails. At the other end were three
beds in a row, exactly in the same position as bunks in
91
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
a lumber camp. There was no loft in the house, and
the most conspicuous things overhead were cobwebs.
So this was to be my home for a couple of months.
There was no better available. I wanted to do some-
thing for the people of this centre and also to do some
studying, for this was my first year's probation.
The man of the house was away attending his fur
traps, and did not expect to be home for a month.
The old lady saw that I was hesitating and thinking
that I was worrying because her son was away said:
"It makes no diff'rence, sir, 'bout my son bein' away,
you can stop yer all the same."
I felt a little indignant for there were plenty of logs
nearby that might be sawed into boards, and the house
might be partitioned off into rooms. Looking at the
old lady, and pointing towards the exposed beds, I
said, "And where am I going to sleep, there?"
"Yes, sir," she replied, "you can sleep der."
I gave her to understand that I could not sleep in a bed
so exposed and if nothing else could be done we should
have to put up a screen. Whereupon she took down
the piece of cotton that was hanging from the beam to
the outer edge of her own bed, rummaged her box and
brought out a piece of cretonne which together with the
piece of cotton she tacked to the beam and to the side
of the house three feet from the outer edge of my bed,
just giving room enough to undress.
92
A FEW WEEKS AT MUD LAKE
The windows were immovable; and the continuance
of the same air, with the long accumulation of dust,
created an atmosphere sickening in the extreme. Fre-
quently when the large stove was doing its best, I had
to put down my book and run out of doors to catch a
breath of fresh air.
The old lady was a sufferer from catarrh, which she
termed a cold, and frequently used her apron and her
hands as substitutes for a handkerchief. One day when
I came home after being away a few days, she turned
her dark eyes to me and said :
"He's comin' 'round 'gen, Mr. Young."
"Who's coming around again?" I enquired.
"The cold, sir, soon as he's gone he comes back agen."
There was plenty of trout in the river close by the
house and barrels of them could be caught. My bill of
fare, for the most part, three times a day was bread,
tea and trout. A few times only the table was enriched
with fresh meat from the gun of the hunter. I do not
write these things to throw any reflection on the people
of Labrador. I write them only to show the nature of
mission work there, the kind of people and the condi-
tion under which they live.
Twice on Sunday I preached to the natives and a few
lumbermen in a small dwelling-house. I soon found
that the lumbermen were exerting a demoralizing in-
fluence upon the easily-led people of Labrador. In the
93
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
same house in which I preached on Sundays, dancing
was kept up until the early hours of the morning, largely
through the influence of the white man.
The weak and easily-led natives were carried away
by this practice and were so captivated by it that it
was hard for the Word of Life to find a lodging-place in
their hearts. I felt what little good was accomplished
on Sunday was often destroyed by the evil influence of
the week. No one was brought into the consciousness
'of pardoning grace and the spiritual atmosphere, such
as we enjoyed at Paradise, was sadly lacking. How
often those who have been blessed with better oppor-
tunities have by their misuse exerted the worst influence,
and the unfortunate people whom they should have
uplifted and helped have been lowered and degraded!
I visited the lumber-camps and was given a hearty
welcome. One man said to me: "I did not expect to
see a clergyman visit our camp away up here in Labra-
dor." I held service in all the camps, and these lum-
bermen, away from home and church, appreciated my
visit very much. Unfortunately with the large field I
had to cover it was very little I could do for them.
I visited Kenemesh also, a twenty-mile walk from
Mud Lake. Here I found Dr. Hardy, the Company's
doctor, very ill. He was the only doctor within four
hundred miles of the mill. He had given up hope of
his own recovery, and was feeling very keenly his ina-
94
A FEW WEEKS AT MUD LAKE
bility to render any assistance to the sick, and grieved
that he himself was destined to die away up in the far
north, far from home and friends.
Here I also met Dillon Wallace, who was at Kenne-
mesh under treatment for his feet, which had been
badly frost-bitten during his return trip from the wild.
For a time the doctor's efforts to effect a cure proved
futile, and the despondent doctor remarked: " Well, Wal-
lace, we are both destined to die here together." But
while he could not cure himself he succeeded before his
death in bringing Mr. Wallace back to health.
Mr. Stanton, the Company's electrician, who accom-
panied Mr. Wallace on his second trip in the wild, had
just installed an electric plant in the Company's build-
ings at Kenemesh. I had the honour of preaching the
first and perhaps the last sermon in a house lighted
by electricity, in Labrador.
This was in February and this morning the tempera-
ture was sixty below zero, the lowest for the year. Mr.
Bentley, the Company's store-keeper, had a great deal
of trouble with his rather long, protruding nose; almost
every day for a month it caught with the frost, and it
became so sore that some declared he would lose it.
One night while sleeping in bed, he felt himself grasp-
ing something very hard, which seemed to him an
axe-handle. It turned out, however, to be his nose,
which had frozen hard and stiff.
95
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
On the 22nd of March I again visited Kenemesh, arriv-
ing there two hours and a half before the spirit of Dr.
Hardy took its flight into the Great Beyond. I spoke
a few comforting words to him, and while I was reading
the eighth chapter of Romans, he peacefully passed
away.
Dr. Hardy was a native of Prince Edward Island and
had been a Christian for many years. We gave his
body temporary burial in the snow, from which place it
was taken on the arrival of the first steamer to the coast,
and conveyed to his home.
During the interval between my first visit to Kene-
mesh and this, I made a trip up Grand Lake. This trip
will be the subject matter of the following chapter.
96
CHAPTER X.
A TRIP UP GRAND LAKE.
The distance from Mud Lake to the head of Grand
Lake, the winter quarters of some trappers whom I
promised to visit, was fifty-six miles. The heaviest
falls of snow come in March, and I knew a hard walk
was before us. On March the 6th we left Mud Lake
and walked that day to North- West River.
. Here I met Mr. Wallace making preparations for
bringing the body of Mr. Hubbard out of the wild.
This was the 7th of March and the body had lain under
the snow since the previous October, when the intrepid
explorer had dropped at his post. Mr. Wallace, not
having fully recovered, tried to secure the aid of trap-
pers to help him. This was difficult for they
wished to spend most of the winter on their hunting-
grounds. He succeeded at length in getting two men,
Thomas Blake and Duncan McLean, to go with George
Bison. They left on the 9th of that month. Mr.
Wallace was eager to do all in his power for his captain
and leader, Mr. Hubbard. I slept that night with Mr.
Wallace and with deep pathos he related to me in part
the sad story of their trip in the wild.
H 97
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
We left Thomas Blake's at the Rapids early on the
8th. At noon we halted, boiled the kettle and got
lunch. We still had twenty miles of such heavy walk-
ing before us that at dark we were many miles from our
destination. I felt weary, for my powers of endurance
were weakened as a result of the poor food obtained in
Labrador. Moreover, to make matters worse, I had
sprained one of my ankles in lifting up the snow that
gathered on my snowshoes every step I made.
At 8 o'clock p.m., after a walk of thirty-seven miles
through a heavy fall of snow, we staggered into Donald
Blake's house at the head of the lake. Donald had left the
day before for his hunting- trail up the Nascaupee River,
but Mrs. Blake gave us a hearty welcome, and appre-
ciated greatly the long, heavy walk I had undertaken
in order to visit them. That night I had the privilege
of leading her to Christ; surely that was worth my hard
trip of a hundred miles, for as Jesus said one soul is
worth more than the whole world.
The next day Donald returned home as a fresh fall of
snow made travelling too heavy for him to proceed into
the wild. We were delighted to see each other. Put-
ting nine dollars in my hand, "Yer," he said, "take
that, you is the first man that ever walked away up yer to
see us." Donald was one of the well-to-do trappers,
1 uiving as a reward of his industry a comparatively
98
A TRIP UP GRAND LAKE
large bank account in St. John's. He was quite re-
ligious, and gave a tenth of his income to the cause of
God.
On the 13th I went to the mouth of the Nascaupee
River to visit another trapper, Alan Goudie. There I
met Duncan McLean and George Bison on their way
to the interior for the body of Mr. Hubbard. They
had no difficulty in locating the place where the body
lay. Though George had not been there since he left
Mr. Hubbard in the tent on that memorable day, the
16th October, five months before, his Indian instinct
carried him right to the tent, and the first time digging
down through six feet of snow found the body unhurt.
The following day we returned to the Rapids. The
long journey down the lake proved to be more weari-
some than the journey inland. This was worse in con-
sequence of the heavy falls of snow, and my sprained
ankle made travelling very painful. The thirty-seven
miles to Thomas Blake's at the Rapids seemed to be
over fifty. We must have walked, I think, over forty
miles that day, and forty miles through deep snow would
be worse than fifty on a good road, for when darkness
set in we were still twelve miles from the Rapids. The
dread of walking into the open water necessitated our
keeping to the land and walking around the bights
instead of taking a straight course from point to point.
At 9 o'clock p.m. we reached Thomas Blake's. My
left leg seemed as if it were broken at the knee-joint,
99
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
and I was too tired to sleep well on a hard floor, never-
theless, the next day I had a walk of fifteen miles to
visit a family I had not seen since arriving on the
mission.
At North- West River I met a young Eskimo, Willie
Ikie by name, very much excited over the pleasant pros-
pect of an early marriage. Willie was very simple and
Mr. McKenzie, the factor at the post, took great delight
in teasing him, much to the amusement of Mr. Wallace.
"Now," said McKenzie to Willie, "if you will marry
Christiana (a girl who lived four miles away at a post
called Butter and Snow), I will give you a barrel of flour,
a clock and four dollars to pay the missionary." Willie
shrugged his shoulders and grinned.
"You know you ought to get married, Willie,"
McKenzie would say.
"There is no life like married life. I am sure
Christiana loves you, I saw her smiling at you the other
day." Willie grinned. The boy was working for a
French Company on the other side of the river.
"Now the first thing you must do, Willie," said
McKenzie, "is to ask the Company if they will allow
you to bring your wife there." Willie did so.
"Now the next thing you must do, is to ask the mis-
sionary if he will marry you."
Just as I was leaving North-West River for Mud
Lake I heard someone behind me calling out, "Hi, Hi."
Looking around I saw Willie coming after me.
100
A TRIP UP GRAND
"Well, Willie, what is it?"
"'11 yah merry me, sir?"
"Oh, Willie, I will see about it later on."
Willie at once went to McKenzie for he looked upon
him as his adviser in all such matters informing him
that the missionary had consented to marry him.
Willie had not yet spoken to Christiana about the
matter. In the meantime I wrote to Christiana's
brother in view of persuading him to prevent the mar-
riage if possible, but he refused to interfere. McKenzie,
of course, did not think it was so serious and thought
it would go off in a joke.
"Well," said McKenzie, "if the Company has no
objections to you bringing your wife to their post and
the missionary has promised to marry you, then she
must consent."
"Ya," said Willie, giving vent to one of his peculiar
grins.
"You must go to Butter and Snow some day and ask
Christiana if she will marry you."
Again Willie grinned consent and early one morning
he made his way to Christiana's home. What language
he used to express his all-pervading desire I do not
know, but it had the desired effect. When I visited
the North- West River a month later Willie and Christi-
ana were at the post and everything was in readiness for
the wedding.
101
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
Willie entered the room with his bride leaning on his
arm. I had great difficulty in getting them both through
the ceremony. Every word I said brought a grin from
Willie, while Christiana kept looking at him as though
for advice on her part of the ceremony. Wallace and
McKenzie were greatly amused.
After they were married I said to Willie: "What
church do you belong to?"
"The same church our Saviour 'longs to, sir."
"What church?" I asked again.
"Same church our Saviour 'longs to, sir."
Willie not only succeeded in getting Christiana, but
he got his barrel of flour, clock and four dollars cash,
the last of which he put in my hand as an acknowledg-
ment of the invaluable service I had rendered him.
102
CHAPTER XI.
FROM MUD LAKE TO PARADISE-
I was anxious to visit again the little log huts nestled
among the trees around the inlet and if possible to go
as far as Sandwich Bay. There lay between Mud Lake
and Paradise over two hundred miles of rough and hard
travelling; I started early in April so as to get back to
Lester's Point before the break-up.
At North- West River I found Mr. Wallace making
preparations for conveying the body of Mr. Hubbard
along the coast. The travelling down the bay was
poor and. as we had to makeso many calls we did not
reach Rigolet till the 13th. All the people were de-
lighted to see the missionary again and enjoyed and
appreciated the second and last sermon for the year.
At Rigolet I met Mr. Swaffield, who offered to take
me to Cartwright on his komatik. As it would be too
late for Charlie to return to Mud Lake after spending
a fortnight with me at Paradise, I sent him back and
embraced the opportunity so kindly offered by Mr.
Swaffield.
On the evening of the first day after leaving Charlie
we were caught in one of those dreaded snowstorms
103
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
which so often sweep the coast of Labrador. After
some time ploughing through the snow Mr. Swaffield
decided to turn into a river in search of a livyer's hut
on the river-bank, two miles inland. But the driver,
competent as he was, in the blinding snowstorm lost
the trail and for three hours we wandered through
little groves of small spruce, across marches and over
banks of snow until 10 o'clock. Then having given up
all hope of finding a night's shelter we decided to halt.
We burrowed a hole in the snow with our snowshoes,
gathered a little wood and lit a fire. We had, however,
but little shelter as the place was rather barren and the
trees were low and scattered. We huddled together
around our little fire, which at times was almost ex-
tinguished by the falling snow, and determined to make
the best of a bad job. The worst feature about the
whole matter was that none of our party knew the
direction that would bring us to the trail. We had
eleven dogs with us, nine of Mr. Swaffield's and two of
mine. Our supply of food was small and someone
remarked: "Surely we shall get out before we get the
eleven dogs eaten."
One of my dogs during the previous summer had
come into too close contact with a porcupine, and as a
consequence had received a shower of quills, which were
now working their way through his body and making
him very sick. For that reason I said, "I should not
104
FROM MUD LAKE TO PARADISE
like to eat Tom." I thought if it came to the worst I
might manage to eat Ranter, a very affectionate dog.
Sometimes in spite of my efforts I would fall asleep and
every time I could see the dogs ploughing through the
snow with their ears just peeping above the surface.
The ears of an Eskimo dog, unlike those of other dogs,
always stand up.
Just as the dawn broke in the eastern sky and the
stars came peeping through the clouds as it cleared a
little, my mind went back to that night just twelve
months before, which I had spent so comfortably in
my own home. It was my birthday and during tea
someone (I forget whom) said to me, "Where do you
expect to be on your next birthday?"
"I do not know," I replied.
When it came, however, I found myself somewhere
in Labrador down in a hole of snow about five feet deep,
lost. Then those words came back to me with a vivid
reality.
As we crawled out of our hole in the snow I saw that
this birthday was to be a memorable one. The sky was
already clear and bright, and it could easily be seen
that it was going to blow hard and freeze. That meant
with two feet of light snow down that the whole country
would be so full of drifting snow that one would hardly be
able to see the dogs to the komatik, much less the trail.
We hastened to find the trail, if possible, before the
105
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
wind came. But that seemed hopeless and for hours
we wandered about, not knowing in what direction we
were going. At last we struck a river fifty yards wide.
We followed it towards the sea as we thought. After
we had walked along this river half a mile, John, our
driver, said: "I b'lieve we are goin' in the country
'stead of out." To make sure, if possible, he put his
practiced eye on the river to see in which direction the
descent was. Then he climbed up a tree and from its
top saw in the ocean an island which he recognized.
We retraced our course, but before we reached the
coast the wind had risen almost to a gale and the drift-
ing snow was whirling in all directions. The tempera-
ture had fallen below zero. If we missed the house this
time our case would be a bad one, accordingly we
abandoned further search and made a dash for Samuel
Pottle's at West Bay. Sometimes we could scarcely
see the leading dog and I doubted if our guide could
pilot us safely there. When, however, through the
blinding snow we shot over the hill and our dogs stopped
suddenly before the inviting door of Pottle's house, my
faith in John was raised higher than ever.
This was 2 o'clock in the afternoon and we were all
glad to find ourselves at last comfortably sheltered from
the raging storm. The usual meal of bread and tea
was put before us. How I longed for something more
strengthening, which longing was intensified by the sight
of fifty newly-killed sea-ducks lying on the porch floor!
106
FROM MUD LAKE TO PARADISE
By the morning the wind had completely ceased and
perfect silence reigned everywhere. This was more no-
ticeable in contrast with the roaring wind of the pre-
vious day. We had over thirty miles of heavy walking
to Cartwright, and I still felt the effect of the ankle-
sprain I had received on my long tramp up Grand Lake.
We made an early start; the days were now long and
we hoped to reach our destination by dark. Mr.
Swaffield, having no snowshoes, remained on the koma-
tik, helping it along by the aid of his feet as much as
possible, for the dogs' hauling powers were taxed to the
utmost that day.
It was the hardest day's travel of my life and the
longest in time though not in distance. For hours we
travelled in silence, all feeling too tired to talk. We
halted at noon at Cape Porcupine, while Mrs. George
Davis prepared a meal of bread and tea. When dark-
ness came over the land we were nine miles from Cart-
wright. How quiet and silent everything was ^iow!
To us it seemed as though we were the only people in
the world. The silence of the north is very impressive.
All nature is held in the hand of a strong but silent
power, except when broken by the roaring of the wind
or groaning of the ice.
The last few miles to Cartwright seemed long. I was
almost too tired and hungry to proceed and felt at times
like lying down on the ice. The silence of the party
107
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN -LABRADOR
would be broken occasionally by the encouraging words
of Mr. Swaffield, "Never mind, Mr. Young, we will
soon be there. ". It was a beautiful night overhead and
Cartwright could be seen in the distance, but it was
labourious work getting through the thick snow. One
could not help pitying the poor, hungry hounds as they
wallowed through the snow.
At last, at 11 o'clock p.m., an hour before Sunday, we
arrived at Cartwright. Mrs. Swaffield had given up
expecting Mr. Swaffield that night. I soon had the
privilege of partaking of what I seldom got in Labrador,
a solid meal of fresh meat and other luxuries. Mr.
Swaffield offered me a glass of rum to revive me, but I
declined it. He was not a drinker, but he thought that
I should feel justified in deviating from the stern rules
of our church under such circumstances. Speaking of
the matter afterwards to one of our men at Paradise he
said, "Mr. Young is a man of principle." I had for-
gotten all about it and when told of the incident could
hardly remember it. Mr. Swaffield himself is a man of
principle, and has always been a sympathetic friend to
the lonely missionary on the coast, and deeply inter-
ested in the moral and spiritual well-being of the unfor-
tunate people of Labrador. He is still on the coast.
That night I slept in a comfortable bed. I preached
twice on Sunday at Cartwright, and on Monday com-
pleted the journey to Paradise.
108
CHAPTER XII.
LIVING
About 4 o'clock in the afternoon the komatik turned
up the hill leading to the welcome door of Robert
Mesher's house. They were all glad to see the mission-
ary, more especially as they did not expect me to give
them another visit that year, and I was happy to find
myself again by the familiar fireside.
The following night we had service. We had a de-
lightful time; they sang and prayed in the good, old,
Methodist fashion. I remained at Paradise a fortnight.
The believers were greatly strengthened and helped
after the long absence of services.
We had a social evening worth mentioning at the
home of Robert Mesher, the occasion being the golden
wedding of the couple. Doctors are few and far be-
tween in Labrador, but still some of the people live to
a good, round age. In Paradise where there were only
eleven families two old couples had celebrated their
golden wedding, while another man was still compara-
tively active in his eighty-fourth year.
On the 2nd of May I again said ' ' good-bye ' ' to the friends
of Paradise and soon we were off at a gallop over the
109
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
smooth ice of the bay. The going was excellent; as it is
generally that time of the year; the ice was still strong
and in less than three hours we were at Cartwright. I
learned that Mr. Wallace had passed just a few days
before on his way to Battle Harbour with the body of
Mr. Hubbard. What a sad home-going for Mr. Wallace!
The next day Reuben Mesher, who brought me from
Paradise, accompanied me across the bay, where I
engaged another man to take me to Cape Porcupine.
I held a service at George Davis' that night and arranged
for him to take me to Lester's Point the next day, a
distance of sixty miles.
"My team is good fer dat," said George.
"I want to call in and see the people when passing."
"All right, sir, my dogs is good fer it."
George had a good team of dogs and he took as much
pride in them as a Newfoundland fisherman does in a
new schooner or a wealthy citizen does in an automobile.
Just as the sun peeped above the horizon the next
morning we started on our long day's journey. At
first the dogs went at a rapid pace of ten miles an hour,
but after two or three hours' race they slowed down a
little. Never did Labrador witness a more glorious day.
The sun shone in all his strength upon the white snow,
which was fast disappearing before his heating power;
and an occasional groan of the sea in its efforts to burst
itself free from its winter shackles of ice, the rattle of
110
LIVING ALONE
our komatik, the pat-pat-pat of the dogs' paws upon
the snow were all that could be heard.
We called at four places during the day, and had a
word of prayer at each and three times had a "bite
to eat." The people scattered along this part of the
bay are very badly off. One woman told me that a
few years previous to my visit she was four days with-
out a morsel of any kind of food in her house. She was
a widow and without means. In many cases such
helpless people were not looked upon very kindly by
the agents at the post. It was only when she had a
meal or two of flour left that she sent her son for food
to Rigolet, a distance of thirty miles. He had barely
reached Rigolet when one of those terrible Labrador
storms came and it was four days ere he returned with
his meagre relief. Meantime his widowed mother killed
a half -starving dog and cooked it for her four helpless
and starving children. But she herself could not
"stomach" the dog. When her son returned she was
in a state of semi-consciousness and doubtless in a few
hours would have died from starvation, had not relief
come.
A poor fellow for the same reason had stayed
too long before he sought relief at Rigolet. He was
caught in a' snowstorm a few miles from his hut, and
being weakened by starvation soon gave up the struggle.
After the storm abated he was found frozen in the ice.
Ill
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
Just at dusk, having covered our journey of sixty miles,
we arrived at Lester's Point. This was the longest dis-
tance I had covered on komatik in one day, and I won-
dered many times how the dogs could keep up their
steady trot during all that long journey having had
nothing to eat since the evening before. George had
good reason to be proud of his team of dogs. Unfortun-
ately not a solitary soul was found at the Point, so we
returned to William Mugford's for the night, and George
went home the next day.
William Mugford belonged to Cupids, Newfoundland.
His house was two miles from Lester's Point, where he
had lived since he had settled in Labrador, twenty
years before.
"What induced you to come to Labrador?" I asked.
"I came to Labrador, sir, because I thought I could
make an easier living."
The llth May I went across the bay to Tickeraluk.
At this place there were five families, quite a large
number for a settlement in Hamilton Inlet. Up to the
previous autumn only three families had lived there. I
said to Jerry Flowers, with whom I was staying, "Your
place is improving. You have more company now
since those other families have moved in."
"Yes," he answered, "the fact o' th' matter is, sir,
we have too much comp'ny."
He was afraid, of course, that the newcomers might
encroach upon his hunting-ground. Give a Labrador
112
LIVING ALONE
man a little hut comfortably situated among the trees
with no one nearer to him than ten or twenty miles and
he is happy.
During my short stay at Tickeraluk Jerry killed sev-
eral wild geese. This was the time of the year that they
go north and large flocks could be seen going in that
direction every day. It was a great treat to the hungry
missionary to satisfy his hitherto insatiable appetite
with this delicious food. You can imagine how he felt
after living for ten months literally upon bread and tea,
to see before him a large, fat goose nicely cooked.
Music, art and literature give great intellectual delight
and pleasure, but a good, fat goose is better for a hun-
gry stomach.
I preached in Jerry's house twice on Sundays, while
during the week I did some cramming with my studies.
The people enjoyed the fortnight the missionary spent
with them. They were good, moral-living people and
claimed they were doing the best they could in religious
matters. Surely their privileges were few, but one would
be better satisfied if they could witness to a definite
change of heart.
On the 24th of May, Jerry went to his summer post
across the bay, while I went to Lester's Point. Most of
the people have their summer and winter quarters and
in some cases these are a hundred miles apart. Every
fall and spring they can be seen putting all their belong-
i 113
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
ings into a little dingey and going off, in the fall to their
hunting-ground, in the summer to their salmon post.
The worst feature about this is the constant removal
of the sick and the aged. For them the continual
moving under such conditions is terrible. To see old
women and sick people unfit to be out of bed crouched
down in one of those miserable boats, during a long jour-
ney in October, touches the heart of the hardest man.
Joe Groves, Jerry's brother-in-law, an invalid, lived
with Jerry and with friends since his wife's death.
He had worn himself out in the service of the Hudson's
Bay Company. Joe had been an active man and a
faithful worker, but had received meagre wages. Now
when he was bent and crouched from hard work and
disease he had to get along as best he could. It never
seemed to occur to him or to the Company that they
should support him and provide a home for him at the
post, but some of us thought differently. He had served
them many long years, in helping to add to their fortunes,
and now' in justice he should not have been thrown off
when he could serve them no longer. This world has not
yet reached the stage when the poor man receives justice.
Those living in the poorer sections are crushed in spirit.
Having always lived in an extremely dependent state
it seems to be impossible to arouse in them a spirit of
independence.
I was expecting my examination papers to arrive at
Rigolet in July, so I resolved to devote a month to study.
114
LIVING ALONE
I was all alone at the Point, the nearest people being the
Mugford family; I made up my mind to study at the
Point and sleep at Mugford's.
Bach day's work for the following three weeks was
as follows: Rising early I took my breakfast at Mug-
ford's, then started for the Point, climbing around the
shore or over the ice barricades like a goat for there are
no roads in Labrador; an hour's walk brought
me to the Mission House. By the time sufficient wood
was cut to last the day and the fire lit, it was 10 o'clock.
From 10 o'clock till 12 o'clock was spent in study, then
the kettle was put on and the dinner was prepared.
After dinner, the dishes washed, I went for a walk around
the Point. I could see Rigolet two miles distant across
the bay, but nothing else to tell me there was any life
on the rugged coast. At 2 o'clock I sat down to study
and at 5 o'clock prepared tea, after which I returned to
Mugford's home arriving there about dusk, sometimes
a little before. Those were lonely days to me and I
realized the truth of those words, " It is not good for man
to be alone" as never before.
When on the morning of the 14th of June I cast my
eyes across the bay and saw Thomas Groves and his
family in a small boat coming towards the Point, their
summer quarters, my joy, for the time being, seemed full.
115
CHAPTER XIII.
THE RETURN OF SUMMER.
I now decided to live in the Mission House alone,
night and day. I was not made for a hermit's life and
I confess I did not enjoy it very well. I was not, how-
ever, entirely void of company, for mice could be heard
nearly all night long running about upstairs like children.
One night I was awakened by something crawling over
my naked feet. After some kicking I heard a mouse
fall on the floor, but immediately it jumped on my head
and the battle continued and the second time the mouse
fell on the floor. But in a moment it was on my feet
again. "You miserable creature," I said, "you are
determined to sleep with me to-night, are you?" With
a tremendous kick I landed it the third time on the floor.
Finding its company was not wanted it gave up the idea
of sleeping with the missionary.
Hamilton Inlet during a gale of wind on the llth of
June freed itself from the last bridge of ice that had so
long held it in its grip. Every day there were new ar-
rivals from the bay. The natives, bringing most of their
belongings, were coming in their little boats from their
117
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
winter quarters to their salmon posts. Charlie had
promised to come down the bay as soon as it broke up
in the spring and now I was expecting him every day.
On the 23rd of June I saw a man with short legs, long
body and auburn whiskers, stepping ashore from a
small boat near the Mission House. It was Charlie.
"Hello, Charlie," I said, "where is Mrs. Flowers?"
"She is up to th' lumber-camp cookin' fer some
lumbermen, sir."
"You promised me you would all come down as soon
as the ice broke up. "
"Yes, sir; but I couldn't very well bring 'er down and
tek 'er back 'gain in th' fall."
To solve my difficulty Thomas Groves and his family
moved into the Mission House. I was a poor cook and
it was a great relief to me, after cooking a month for
myself, to have my meals brought into the dining-room
to me.
The only signs of summer yet were the breaking up
of the ice, the melting of the snow and the rising of the
temperature. No schooner or steamer from the outer
world had yet made its appearance, no signs of sprouting
grass could be seen and no wild flower had yet attempted
to unfold itself in the sun.
From the flag-stand a hundred yards from the Mission
House one could see ten miles down the bay. How often
I went to that stand and strained my eyes trying to
118
THE RETURN OF SUMMER
make out a schooner's sail or a steamer's smoke ! I must
have gone there a hundred times, until at last I felt that
I must look in vain. Finally on the 24th of June after
such a long wait for the approach of something from the
outer world, I saw a schooner sailing in the bay. What
a welcome sight and what a relief! This was the first
thing I had seen from the outer world since the 8th of
October, over eight months before. It was a fishing
schooner from Newfoundland and had come to the bay
for wood. She was anchored five miles from the Point.
Thomas Groves and I went aboard the next morning
to glean the news.
"Well, Captain," I said, as I crawled in over the rail
of the schooner, "how is all the world getting along?"
"Oh, everything is much the same, only there is a
great war raging between Russia and Japan."
"And what is the news in Newfoundland?"
"Nothing. Has the mail boat not arrived yet?"
he said.
"No, sir."
"Then she will soon for she was to leave on the 14th, "
was the consoling reply.
This was Saturday, and the same evening as I was
sitting in my study poring over one of my text-
books Mrs. Groves knocked at the door and said,
"Mr. Young, there is a steamer comin' up th' bay."
The book was immediately dropped and Thomas' boy
119
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
and I started for Rigolet. She passed us in the stream
but it was too dark to make out her name.
"I don't believe it is the Virgina Lake now," I said.
"Oh yes, sir, 'tis she all right," the boy replied.
When we paddled by the steamer's side at Rigolet I
read on her bow ' ' Viking. ' ' It was the steamer of
Dickie and Company from Halifax, bound for Kene-
mesh. We paddled back to the Point again with a feel-
ing of great disappointment, to say the least.
Sunday we had service twice in the church. About
thirty people were present and we had a good time.
Monday at 5.30 p.m. as I was in the attitude of quiet
meditation, another hard rap came at my study door.
"Yes."
"There is a steamer comin' up the bay, Mr. Young."
"Is that so?" I replied, for the news seemed too good
to be true.
"Surely it must be the mail-steamer this time."
I had strained my eyes trying to see a steamer down the
bay a few moments before, but could see nothing upon
the water.
An hour later I anxiously watched the clerk assort
the mail at Rigolet. This was the first mail, but one,
that I had received since the mail-boat made her last
trip the previous fall. The last day of April, when at
Paradise, I received a mail which came overland via
Quebec, but the news was old, the mail being posted on
the llth of January.
120
THE RETURN OF SUMMER
There was something about Labrador life that lured
me and that I liked in spite of its isolation and hardships.
But the conditions under which the missionary lives
and works there make it hard upon his health. I had
lost twenty pounds in weight and some physical endur-
ance; scurvy had made its appearance in my gums and
tongue, creating a soreness which remained for a year after
I left the coast. The cause, no doubt, was the lack of
meat and vegetables. One would not mind the twenty and
thirty miles' walk a day through the heavy snow if there
awaited him a good, solid meal at the end of the journey.
But this everlasting diet of bread and tea with the hard
work would weaken the strongest constitution. For-
tunately I never had to rest a day, so the work did not
suffer.
The 12th of July, the mail-steamer again steamed into
Rigolet. By this time everything had taken on a sum-
merlike appearance as far as this is possible in Labrador.
All the snow had disappeared but there was still much of
the rough, Arctic ice about which was ever drifting down
from the Arctic Ocean. The cod-fish had swum to the
shore; thousands of Newfoundland fishermen were
scattered all along the coast, and there were fairly good
signs of salmon in the bays.
After spending another Sunday at the Point I began
to make preparations for my summer tour around the
mission. I had no doubt that our new mission boat at
121
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
Snack Cove was completed, as I had seen the builder
in the winter and he had given me his guarantee that
she would be ready for me when I came for her in the
summer. I had arranged with Thomas Groves to go
with me in the mission boat for the summer, and on
the following Saturday we took passage in a trader
which was going direct to Snack Cove.
122
CHAPTER XIV.
INITIAL TRIE OP THE ARM IN I AN.
The wind was directly against us and we had to beat,
or tack, the whole distance out of the bay, the mouth
of which we reached by dawn. It was then calm and up
till 2 p.m. there was not a breath of wind upon the waters
of the Atlantic. The rough ice from the Arctic regions
was very thick for that time of the year, and the blue
waters were dotted everywhere with white sheets of
ice, which glistened in the sun. Everything was quiet,
scarcely a ripple upon the surface of the water, when,
suddenly there came a rushing, mighty wind from
the north, changing everything. The great sails, went
out with a jerk and every man with one exception
was immediately on deck.
"Haul down the sails," shouted the captain. " 'ard
ups and 'ard downs," came from the man on the look-
out as our vessel just escaped one sheet of ice after
another. The vessel was soon going at the rate of ten
miles an hour, and if she struck one of those icebergs,
a watery grave for us all was almost inevitable.
The main topsail in some way got tangled up in the
rigging and this prevented the men from lowering any
123
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
other sail. We had two lumbermen from the mill on
board; one of them when the gale struck us rushed to
the cabin and sat there, with his elbows upon his knees
and his hands to his face, trembling with excite-
ment. The other man, a Mr. Soy, was very active,
catching hold of the halyards, sheets, etc., and doing
his best in the emergency. When it was over, he said
to me: "There was so much fun about it, anyway."
The sails being lowered she went along comfortably
under small canvas and at 5 o'clock we dropped anchor
in Snack Cove.
I went ashore, gathered a congregation, and held a
service. Several of my audience were Newfoundlanders
and it did one's soul good to listen to them as they poured
out their souls to God in the fisher-folks' characteristic
manner.
As I came ashore I noticed that our mission boat was
still on the dock in an unfinished condition. I said
nothing about it till Monday morning. I learned then
that the builder owing to sickness during the winter was
unable to complete the boat. He was now in the midst
of the salmon fishery and at first refused my urgent
request that he complete the work, but afterwards
consented to do so "between whiles." With what
help Thomas gave him and with the assistance so kindly
given by the Newfoundland fishermen, who were fishing
there, she was soon completed and in less time than a
fortnight was launched.
124
THE INITIAL TRIP OF THE ARMINIAN
I named her the Arminian, conveying the idea of free
grace, a doctrine propagated by the saintly and scholarly
theologian, James Arminius, after whom, by the way, I
have the honor to be named.
She was a comfortable, little deck boat with a nice
little cabin but of course was too small for efficient ser-
vice on the stormy coast. She was, however, a great
improvement on the old mission boat.
We started off with a fairly good westerly breeze and
while the wind lasted covered about six miles an hour.
In the evening the wind moderated and we towed the
Arminian into a comfortable harbour, where we spent
the night in the cabin of our little boat of which I was very
proud. The next day at noon we reached the Point.
The 5.5. Virginia Lake had called again at Rigolet
during my absence, this time bringing my examination
papers. I did not feel equal to the task, however, I went
to Rigolet and wrote them. That being done we started
on our trip to the lumber-mill.
Owing to the light breeze the first day we covered
only fifteen miles. At dark we were becalmed and drop-
ped anchor by the straight shore, and lay down for a
nap. At midnight I heard the rippling of water by the
side of our little boat. I was soon on deck and to my
delight a light breeze from the east was blowing.
" Come, Thomas, it is blowing a fair wind and we had
better take advantage of it; for it is as likely as not to
change by daylight and blow a gale from the west. ' '
125
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
' ' All right, sir, " said Thomas, and in a few minutes the
Arminian was on her way to the head of the bay, and
very gracefully she went along under a moderate breeze.
At dusk the following evening we arrived at North-
West River.
There is only a very narrow and crooked channel
leading into Kenemesh; the sand-banks almost cover
the bed of the harbour. Thomas would not undertake
to pilot our boat into the harbour as he had never been
there. I did so and brought her to the wharf by the
mill without mishap. I should not have been surprised
if she had grounded for I went in largely by guess.
Leaving the Arminian at Kenemesh I went in another
boat to Mud Lake where I intended to spend the fall
and part of the winter. We were also having a school
teacher from Newfoundland for the settlement and I
tried to arrange lodgings for us both. I got a boarding
house for Hudson, the teacher, but could not get a place
for myself. Indeed, for some reason, the people seemed
very reluctant to have the missionary remain, neverthe-
less I determined to stay. I returned to Kenemesh and
waited for a good time to go to Lester's Point.
We did not have long to wait. The next morning it
was blowing a strong breeze from the south-west and
at 6 o'clock we sailed out of the little harbour of Kene-
mesh. As the sun rose the wind increased and by 10
o'clock it had risen to a gale, and the mainsail had to be
126
THE INITIAL TRIP OF THE ARMINIAN
completely lowered. Under the foresail and jib the
Arminian rode the gale fairly well, until about 2 o'clock
when the foresail had to be lowered.
"She is a good sea boat," Thomas remarked, and so
she proved to be for her size or we should have had a hard
time that day. For two hours she went along under her
jib. We thought of reaching St. John's harbour but
failed to do so as it lay too far to the windward. After
we passed St. John's Island the water was smoother and,
hoisting more sail, we went along better and dropped
our anchor in Snook's Cove, just at dusk. This is
the place where George Ellidge, the lone missionary,
spent a winter seventy-eight years before.
As I looked back over that day I was thankful to God
for our safe return from the mill. I also felt proud of
our little boat, the Arminian.
The following day we ran to Lester's Point.
127
CHAPTER XV.
CLOSE OF NAVIGATION
Already the nights were getting cooler which made us
realize that our short summer was fast drawing to a close.
I had my trip to Indian Harbour yet to make and without
delay we proceeded north. We visited several places
along the coast, arriving at Indian Harbour for Sunday,
where I preached in the Deep Sea Mission Chapel to a
large congregation of Newfoundland fishermen.
Every day large fleets of fishing-vessels of various
sizes, with all sails spread, could be seen going south.
The birds too, being warned of the near approach of
winter, could be seen flying in the same direction; even
the fish were leaving the shore and swimming to deeper
and warmer water. All this told me only too plainly
that I should soon be left again upon the cold and isolated
coast with, but few exceptions, the natives, half-breeds
and Eskimos as my only companions.
On our return trip to Lester's Point we met a heavy
breeze blowing out of the bay, and before we reached
home the seas had well washed the deck of the Armin-
ian. In a few days, John Hudson, our teacher ior Mud
j 129
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
Lake, arrived. Thomas took the Arminian to Double
Mer and hauled her up for the winter. Hudson and I
went to Molioch where, in a few days, we hoped to
get a passage in John Blake's boat to Kenemesh. This
was my final farewell to Lester's Point.
At Molioch we stayed with Fred. Blake. Mr. and
Mrs. Blake had two lovely little girls, who were excep-
tionally kind and affectionate; their affections extended
even to the numerous mice which infested their dwell-
ing. One mouse was so tame that it would eat out of
their hands. I was deeply interested and tried to use
my powers of attraction upon the pet mouse, and to
my surprise it came and comfortably ate a piece of
bread from my hand.
After another Sunday had passed we left for the mill
in John Blake's boat, which was a little larger than the
Arminian. Ten of us huddled together in her little
cabin, and, of course, there was no such thing as sleep-
ing aboard her. Fred. Blake and his family were on
board, and Mrs. Blake and the children had a trying
experience, for the water was very rough. This, how-
ever, is a common experience for the women of Hamilton
Inlet. Every summer they come down the fiord with
their husbands, often meeting a bad time and in a far
worse boat than John Blake's. This was the first time
since coming to Labrador that the missionary felt the
effects of the sea. Hudson, too, was feeling very un-
130
CLOSE OF NAVIGATION
comfortable. We were out all night and that boat
rolled and tossed about until dawn, when the wind
veered from the north and we "just lay along with all
sails drawn."
Signs of the approaching winter could be seen
everywhere and especially on the Mealy Mountains,
which were already covered with a mantle of white.
Other boats could be seen sailing up the bay, and all
were in a hurry to get settled in their snug winter quart-
ers at the head of the fiord before winter set in. We
arrived at Kenemesh that evening just before sunset.
The next evening I preached to a comparatively large
congregation of Nova Scotians, who had been working
at the mill during the summer. Most of them were
now returning home as the mill was closing down for the
winter.
The following day we went to Mud Lake ; glad indeed
I was that all my boating was ended for that year. Now
new difficulties appeared, for there is no end to difficulties
in Labrador. Mark Best, a native, offered to board the
school teacher, but no place whatever could be found
for the missionary. I tried to make some arrangement
with the lumber company, but they did not have room
enough for their own -men and the natives made all sorts
of excuses. Apparently they were not anxious for me
to stay there with them, the reason for which will be
dealt with in another chapter. It was impossible for me
131
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
to return to Paradise at that season of the year and that
was the only other place where I could spend the fall,
unless I hid myself away with one family somewhere in
the bay. I remained with Mrs. Best, though she never
really gave her consent, but she could not turn me out
of doors. The thing was humiliating to me.
The Company's physician, Dr. D. T. C. Watson, was
a splendid type of Christian man and in him I found a
congenial friend and companion. This meant more than
I can express to a lone missionary amidst the isola-
tions of Labrador. In my absence he held services for
the people on Sunday and his work was a great blessing
to both lumbermen and natives.
On the 5th of October, five days after we arrived at
Mud Lake, Hudson opened school in a little house given us
by the Company for that purpose. As far as I know
this was the first school ever taught in the place, yet
the natives could all read and write.
A feeling of loneliness came over me when I realized
that I was again cut off from all connections with the
outer world for eight long months. No news could be ob-
tained and fifteen hundred miles of rugged coast lay
between us and the place of connection with the outer
world, over which one would have to travel by komatik
and foot in order to escape the desolation of a Labrador
winter. With such a prospect before us we settled down
to do the best we could under existing conditions.
132
CHAPTER XVI.
IN THE GRIP OF WINTER'S ICY HAND.
Navigation was now closed. The bays were freezing
up and the stern and rugged headlands, clothed in their
icy garments, stood like sentinels guarding the coast,
forbidding the approach even of the most trustworthy
steamer. All who were leaving had gone. No one now
could come to us and we could not go to them. The
face of nature was covered with ice and snow, the trees
were laden with their heavy burden of white, the hills
looked down upon us in cold and silent determination,
in fact, everything was held in the grip of winter's icy
hand.
Labrador winter life is a real struggle with the ele-
ments, and one has to be well clad to overcome them.
I again resorted when travelling to my warmest cloth-
ing, including my adikey and sealskin pants. One liv-
ing in the far north can scarcely fail to be impressed
with the apparent mercilessness and sternness of nature.
Everything seems hard and rough, but there is on the
other hand something grand and majestic about winter
in the northern regions. Everything has the appear-
ance of strength and firmness. Though nature lacks
133
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
softness and beauty it is characterized almost entirely
by ruggedness and strength. The character of the
people does not, in any marked way, reflect the rough-
ness and sternness of nature by which they are sur-
rounded.
The sky in fine weather is generally cloudless and has
a cold, crisp appearance. It is often made luminous by
the frequent occurrence of the auroras. These auroras
generally proceed from a cloud or haze in the northern
sky and stretch away towards the east and west. They
cause one to stop and wonder as they rush about over
the sky in all directions from the horizon to the zenith.
I preached in a large cook-house belonging to the
Company. The need of a church at this centre was
keenly felt, but it was impossible to build just then.
My successor, Ezra Broughton, who went to Labrador
after completing his theological course at Mount Allison
University, succeeded in erecting at Mud Lake a splen-
did little church, which stands as a monument to his
energy and ability.
Twice I visited the lumber-camps, accompanied by
Dr. Watson. It was a real pleasure indeed to walk
with him the twelve or fourteen miles to the camp.
Occasionally he preached for me, especially when visit-
ing the camps.
Dr. Watson had never learned how to skate and dur-
ing the fortnight of smooth ice on the bay it was my
134
ffe A I S k n> !i Ba / S Agents and their Guides.
i D La ^ ra< J? r Half-breed and his Home.
(c) Kev. E. Broughton, Missionary to Labrador (1905-06).
IN THE GRIP OF WINTER'S ICY HAND
privilege to teach him the art. It was amusing to
watch him. At first I held his arm as he tried to make
a few strokes, but thinking he could manage alone he
started off with a beginner's self-confidence and the
next minute his head met the ice with a terrible force.
"What did you see, Doctor," I asked.
"I saw twenty moons," he replied.
Several times he tried to break the ice with the crown
of his head, but he disregarded my advice and persisted
in skating without my assistance. In a very short time
he became a comparatively good skater. We both en-
joyed immensely a few hours' skating every night under
the moon-lit and starry heavens, and it was with a
feeling of genuine regret that we watched the scene of
our happy recreation spoiled by a fall of snow.
One Saturday Hudson went with me to Goose Bay
to visit a lumber-camp and the two native families
there. It was a nine-mile walk. On our way up we
met a gang of Mountaineer Indians coming from the
wild to Mud Lake where they hoped to do some trading
with the Company. The men were hauling the canoes
and the women brought other necessities on the tobog-
gans. Children too young to walk were lashed on a
toboggan, drawn by the mother. The women were very
shy and kept as far away from us as possible.
Everything was now held in winter's strong embrace.
The frost was keen as we faced the bay against the wind
135
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
and Hudson was getting his first real taste of a Labrador
winter, and his nose was troubling him some.
A long, protruding nose gives one much trouble
when stemming a gale of wind with the temperature
thirty below zero, and it is very convenient for the
Eskimos that their olfactory appendages are so flat.
We had two fine services on Sunday, one in the lum-
ber-camp and one at the home of a native. We started
early Monday morning for Mud Lake, and after walk-
ing six miles had a three-mile portage to cross. There
were two trails across this portage and by mistake I
took the wrong one that took us out in Grand River a
mile above Mud Lake. After walking some distance I
began to feel that we were not in the right trail.
"This is not the way we came," said Hudson.
"I don't think it is, for nothing seems familiar to me
here," I replied. The expression on Hudson's face told
me plainly that he had lost faith in me as a guide.
"How did you come to take the wrong path?"
"We will be all right, this trail will take us out in
Grand River anyway." We walked and walked, and it
seemed as if we would never reach the river. At last
we came upon the river, but there was no sign of the
village.
"Where are we now?"
"We must be on Grand River," I said, but Hudson
would not be convinced that we were on the right trail
until we got close to the village.
136
IN THE GRIP OF WINTER'S ICY HAND
Early in December I visited North- West River and
gave them another Sunday. Mr. McKenzie had left
this station the previous summer and Mr. Stuart was
now in charge of the post. He had up to that time
spent twelve years in the Hudson's Bay Company's
service in Labrador and the previous winter had been
on furlough in the old country and on the continent.
He was now back to bleak Labrador again, and the
Company had no more loyal servant in their employ
than Mr. Stuart.
Shortly after returning to Mud Lake I began to make
preparations for my long and last trip around the mis-
sion. But before we leave Mud Lake behind I shall
give an account of the struggle we had there with in-
temperance. This is the subject of the next chapter.
137
CHAPTER XVII.
GRAPPUNG WITH INTEMPERANCE}.
Many of the men who were engaged in the lumber
concern at Mud Lake were addicted to strong drink
before coming to Labrador. It appears their usual cus-
tom was to work a few months in the woods, then return
to their homes in the village and spend the greater part
of their earnings in the saloon, while their wives and
families were left with but a meagre share.
It was partly through the influence of the wives that
some of those men went to Labrador. The half heart-
broken wives and mothers hoped that in Labrador,
where license to sell liquor was not allowed, their hus-
bands and sons would be free from the temptation and
soon would be cured of the habit. With this hope in
their hearts they were prepared to make the sacrifice
of leaving their homes in Canada and settling with
their husbands in the cold and isolated interior of
Labrador.
Intoxicating liquor destroys the finer feelings of the
soul, saps the affections of the heart and turns a
man almost into a beast. These men forgot the sacri-
fice their wives had made, they ignored their tender
139
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
feelings and were carried away by the insatiable thirst
for liquor. While license could not be obtained in
Labrador the burning thirst of those men for intoxicants
resulted in their getting a substitute brewed on the
spot, which produced a worse effect upon the mind and
body than the genuine liquor.
The concoction, as far as I could learn, was a mixture
of Jamaica ginger, barley, raisins, tobacco and sugar.
The recipe was given to two of the native women, who
agreed to manufacture the mixture and at once engaged
in the unlawful and demoralizing business.
Several gallons were brewed and sold for $1.50 per
gallon. As a result drunkenness became prevalent in
Mud Lake, and without policemen or any restraint of
the law, it was almost a risk for one to travel along the
lonely path unarmed.
A conversation with the foreman's wife disclosed to
me the sadness of the situation caused by the selling of
intoxicants there. She had hoped that when her hus-
band came to Labrador he was escaping from the saloon,
with all its evils. Two or three of the native homes
were practically turned into "shebeens" and the native
women had forgotten or ignored the suffering they were
bringing upon their sisters from abroad, by engaging in
this pernicious trade. When the Canadian women
realized with bitter disappointment that the saloon was
still in their midst their happiness was gone and their
hopes dashed to the ground.
140
GRAPPLING WITH INTEMPERANCE
Two of the native women, encouraged by their hus-
bands and sons, were at this time busily engaged brew-
ing a large supply of this concoction for seventy lumber-
men, when they returned from the woods in the Christ-
mas holidays. I became indignant and resolved to do
my best to wipe this evil from the place.
Accordingly Dr. Watson and I went to the homes of
those concerned and strongly repudiated their actions.
When asked why they were brewing the intoxicating
liquor, they replied: "Because we were asked to do so
by the lumbermen." We showed them the evil result
and the unlawfulness of their actions. I warned them
that if they did not discontinue that demoralizing busi-
ness I would put the matter into court when I went to
St. John's in the following summer, which I did on my
arrival in the city in June. I could understand now
why they did not want me stationed in their midst, and
yet these very people were formerly always so glad to
see the missionary and to retain him as long as possible.
It was painful to see them change so under the influence
of the white men.
As we were trying to stop the sale of the intoxi-
cants we also felt it our duty to provide some sort of
entertainment for the men when they came from the
woods. Hudson and the doctor began training the
school children and the young ladies of the place for an
entertainment, consisting of singing, recitations and dia-
141
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
logues, to be held on Monday evening, December 27th.
This we thought would instruct, interest and amuse the
people. For a fortnight they worked hard training the
young people for this social gathering. The work was
new and consequently rather difficult for the native
children. But by perseverance and patience on the part
of Hudson and the doctor, especially the former, the
programme was completed by Saturday, and every-
thing was in readiness for the entertainment, which
was to take place in the Company's cook-house, the
only available place.
Meanwhile most of the lumbermen returned from the
camps to Mud Lake on Saturday afternoon. Some
of them were almost like fiends and immediately made
their way to the houses where the mixture was ready
for them. To drink that concoction they must have
had little regard for their money or their stomachs.
Some of them were soon drunk and remained so all day
Sunday.
Sunday evening a large number of natives and lum-
bermen gathered at the cook-house for divine service.
Some of the congregation were still under the influence
of liquor. I had prepared a temperance sermon for the
occasion for I felt this to be my duty.
After showing, as far as I could, the evil effects of
alcohol upon the human system, the intellect and the
affections, I exposed the guilt of this business in the
142
D. T. C. WATSON, M.D.
Of the Nova Scotia Lumber Camp, who Helped to Fight
Intemperance on the Labrador.
GRAPPLING WITH INTEMPERANCE
strongest language at my command; first, of those who
drink; secondly, of those who give it to others; thirdly,
of those who sell it to others, especially of those who sell
it without license; fourthly and lastly, of those who are
indifferent and will not use their influence to remove the
curse from their midst.
Some of the congregation appreciated the plain words
of the preacher, while as I expected, the anger of others
was aroused. One of the half-drunken men arose dur-
ing the sermon and staggered towards the door and I
thought he meant to take hold of me and see what he
could do with me. He quietly went out, however, and
left me alone. After the sermon I announced the
entertainment for the following evening.
I was very sorry to be compelled to preach such a
sermon, especially as it was my farewell address to the
people of Mud Lake. I was then in my second year's
probation, and looking back over it now after twelve
years I do not think I should have been more lenient
to the demoralizing and unlawful trade, but perhaps I
might have been more discreet.
The following morning four drunken men went to
one of the native homes, purchased a jar of intoxi-
cants and immediately proceeded to the home of Mrs.
Best and asked for her permission to open and drink
it there.
"I can't allow you to drink it yer," said Mrs. Best.
"You know he's upstairs."
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A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
"Oh," they replied, "we don't mind, he said we were
nothing last night so we are nothing."
Mark Best was sitting in the corner of the house
apparently afraid to speak. Hudson was out and I
was upstairs alone. I thought perhaps they might take
things in their own hands and come upstairs to attack
me. I did not suppose I could handle four men, never-
theless, I had a mind to go downstairs and take what-
ever might come. They made no attempt, however, to
do any injury downstairs or to come up to me, so I
thought it wise to keep clear of them while they
were in their drunken and frantic condition.
After grumbling for a few minutes in their rough,
drunken manner about me and the sermon, they sang:
"When the roll is called up yonder, I'll be there," and
left the house.
At 7.30 p.m. sharp, Hudson, the doctor and I arrived
at the cook-house, where we expected to find a large
congregation assembled to enjoy the feast we had in
store for them. But to our surprise and chagrin we
found that a dance had been in progress there for some
time and the young women whom Hudson and the
doctor had spent so much time in training for the enter-
tainment were linked arm in arm with the half-drunken
men, racing over the building in a crude dance. Evi-
dently these fellows were determined to get equal with
me.
144
GRAPPLING WITH INTEMPERANCE
It was discouraging, to say the least of it, and it
looked as if we were defeated. But God's work does
not hang on the apparent success of a moment or a day
or a year. This little persecution did not permanently
affect the cause of Christ there. Right will always
triumph in the end. To-day the Methodists have a
strong cause at Mud Lake, and one of the men who
allowed the intoxicants to be manufactured in his home
has become a leading Christian in the place, while the
other man is a strong sympathizer of our work, and is
one of the best helpers, financially. I have not heard
of any trouble akin to those related in this chapter
arising there since.
Nevertheless, I felt that my work there was done, as
my duty called me elsewhere, and on January the 6th,
I started on my last trip around the extensive mission.
145
CHAPTER XVIII.
FROM MUD LAKE TO TICKERAUJK.
I shall, as far as possible, in this and the following
chapter, take the reader into each home visited along
the coast. With most of these homes he is already
familiar, but no doubt he would like to know a little
more about them and with the writer, for the present
at least, to wish them good-bye.
Sunday 8th January was spent at North- West River.
I preached to a small congregation of half-breeds in the
Company's house. I had preached quite frequently in
this little settlement, and now, as I was looking into the
faces of my swarthy congregation for the last time, I
wondered how much they had benefitted by my preach-
ing and ministrations. Had I perf 01 med my duty faith-
fully? Above all, had I done my best to point them to
Christ? These are heart-searching questions to a
preacher when he is leaving a people for the last time.
I should not like to attempt an answer to those questions.
God alone is the Judge and Rewarder of our feeble
efforts. Monday morning I bade them farewell and pro-
ceeded to the home of Fred Rich. Fred was to take
me to Ticker aluk.
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A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
Perhaps the reader has been wondering how Willie
Ikie and Christiana were getting along in their married
life. I met them both at Fred Rich's, where they
were staying. It was nearly twelve months now
since they were united in wedlock, and their childish
but affectionate attentions to each other had not waned.
Christiana took her place by Willie's side, employing
herself caressing his hair, while Willie did not forget to
give her repeated glances of smiling consent. It was
evident that Willie thought there was no one in the
world like Christiana and Christiana thought the same
of Willie. With this common confidence in each other,
notwithstanding the many deficiencies apparent to
others, they were happy.
The following night was spent at Moore's Cove with
Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Baikie and family. Skipper
Thomas was an old Scotchman about seventy years of
age, who came to Labrador as a servant of the Hudson's
Bay Company nearly fifty years before, when Lord
Strathcona, then Donald Smith, had charge of the posts
in Hamilton Inlet. After spending nine years in the
Company's service he married a native, settled down in
Labrador and lived the life of a trapper. His hunting-
ground was in the interior from the head of Grand Lake.
There in that desolate country near the place where the
late Leonidas Hubbard lost his life, he spent many a
long winter, generally alone. That kind of life entails
148
FROM MUD LAKE TO TICKERALUK
many hardships and is fraught with many dangers.
The old man could tell many stories of hardships, hair-,
breadth escapes, etc. Among others he related to me
the following:
"One winter," he said, "while furring alone twenty
miles in from the head of Grand Lake, as I was cutting
down a tree for fire- wood for my camp, it got caught
up in another tree and to get it down I had to cut down
the tree in which it was caught. I was in a hurry for it
was late in the evening, and not noticing the tree, it
fell before I knew it right on my back and knocked me
down. For a while I couldn't get up. After a hard
struggle I crawled to the tilt, got in the bunk and there
I lay for nine days without ever being able to get up,
and all I had to eat was a little hard tack. I was there
in the tilt twenty-one days and could not walk home.
The family was expecting me out before, so after the
time was long past they came to look for me and got
me out."
Perhaps the story was exaggerated but there can be
no doubt that the old man had some very trying ex-
periences and narrow escapes, during his many winters
hunting in the wilds of Labrador. As a result of the
hardships endured during these long years of toil in the
forest, the old man was a great sufferer from cramps
and rheumatic pains. After having service I retired
to my sleeping-bag only to be awakened at 12 o'clock
149
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
by the rattling of the stove. Opening my eyes, I saw
the form of a man trying to get a fire in the large double
stove.
"What is the matter?" I said, "it is not daylight, is
it?"
"No, but those cramps in my hand will not let me
sleep," he replied, at the same time showing me his
hands. Their drawn condition told me only too well
the agony the old gentleman was enduring. The heat
soon eased his pain and he again retired.
At 3 o'clock I saw the old, weather-beaten form again
at the stove. This time his wife began to find fault
because he was making it too warm for them upstairs.
"If they had the cramps like me," he said, "they
would like it warm too." His hard life was now telling
on him, and no doubt he spent many nights similar to
the one I have described. What had he received for all
his hard toil? He had killed a large number of fur-
bearing animals in his time, and bartered the furs at
the Hudson's Bay Company's store helping to fill
their treasury, while Baikie himself was left with little
to remind him of his hard toil excepting his cramps and
rheumatic pains.
The women in the morning ere we parted gave me
some curios worked by their own hands in kind recogni-
tion of the help they had received from the humble
efforts of the missionary.
150
FROM MUD LAKE TO TICKERALUK
A few hours brought us to Mrs. Daniel Campbell's
at Muligan. The old lady appeared very sad and was
inclined to talk only of her own troubles.
"Ah," she said, "I shall never see you again."
"No, I do not suppose you will."
"I know I shall not live much longer and oh, I wish
I could have a minister visit me on my death-bed."
I talked with her all the afternoon. I knew it was
my last chat with the old lady who had been so kind
and motherly to me on that bleak shore. What could I
say to comfort this aged soul, looking into the face of
death as she was? How awkward and almost helpless
one often feels on such occasions!
As I was leaving the next morning she accompanied
me a few yards from the door, her feeble step telling
plainly that her end was near. She held me by the
hand for a considerable length of time, being reluctant
to let me go. She would not see another missionary till
July and she might die before then. "I might be lying
over there," she said, pointing to the place where her
husband lay, with whom she had lived happily for
fifty-four years. Her prophecy proved true for ere the
month of April passed her body was laid in the "cold
and silent grave" and her spirit had gone to God.
A drive of four miles brought us to Pearl River where,
as the reader will remember, live two Chaulk families.
Mrs. Andrew, a young married woman, was very ill
151
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
and in my judgment was a victim of tuberculosis.
Medical aid was out of the question. I promised to send
her a little nourishment from Rigolet, which I knew she
needed badly. I do not suppose she ever recovered. I
talked and prayed with her and she was cheered and
consoled. It was indeed a real pleasure to me to be able
to comfort this poor invalid in the dark wilds of Lab-
rador. Her face lit up with a spiritual light and her
trust was firm in God.
We had a long drive of forty miles before us the next
day. Robert Baikie had left the Lowland and the
nearest house was Will Shephard's at Valley's Bight.
The first ice that made in the fall had broken up in a
terrific gale of wind, which drove the great sheets over
each other thus making it very rough for komatik work.
There was little snow on the ice, and the whole bay
was full of hummocks, some of them standing five and
six feet high making the steering of the komatik between
them a difficult task. The dogs were going at full
speed and it was useless to call out "steady" as the
going was good excepting for the hummocks. Once the
komatik capsized, but there were no broken legs. The
jerking and jumping of the komatik over the hummocks
made the dogs go all the faster. To make matters
worse the dogs scented a seal on the ice in the distance,
and becoming entirely unmanageable were off at once
at full gallop. They took complete charge of the
152
SOME OF MY LABRADOR FRIENDS AND THEIR DOGS.
FROM MUD LAKE TO TICKERALUK
komatik and it was a miracle that we escaped without
broken legs or cracked heads.
"What's the matter with the dogs, Fred, can't you
stop them?"
"They smells a swile, sir."
"They must have great smellers," I replied, "for I
cannot smell or see a seal anywhere."
It was the roughest ride and the greatest shaking I
had ever experienced and it was a good thing our hearts
were sound. After the wild gallop of a couple of miles
I made out a black speck on the ice ahead of us, and in
a minute or two more the six wolf-dogs had their long
teeth stuck into a large bedlamer seal.
This seal was called by the natives a "traveller," and
it had travelled for sixty miles or more over the ice,
twenty or thirty miles farther would have taken it to
open water in the "narrows." These seals travel very
slowly and must live entirely on ice and snow. It had
probably taken over a month to travel that distance
and it seemed a pity to kill it now it was so near its
goal. A crack or two from Fred's whip ended its life
and we lashed it on the komatik and took it to the home
of Will Shephard, an industrious and well-to-do trap-
per. The host was away from home attending his fur-
traps so we spent the night with Mrs. Shephard and her
two children.
Saturday found us with Widow Chaulk at Trout Cove.
Her husband had died the previous year and she was
153
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
living with Sandy, her step-son, who too had been
married, but whose wife had died some years before.
This family was in such poverty that Mrs. Chaulk told
me that she had not tasted even a bit of butter since
the previous spring.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Young," she said, "I often feels like
sitting down to a nice cup of tea, but when I remember
we have no butter or sugar my stomach won't take it
and I goes without it."
It could be seen she was literally dying of starvation.
Sandy at the time of my visit, notwithstanding his
extreme poverty, was at Back Bay paying a visit to his
young lady, whom he intended to marry when I made
my yearly call. Unfortunately or fortunately he did
not know I would be along so soon. He sent for me
after I arrived at Tickeraluk, but I could not return
and he had to postpone his wedding till the following
July, when my successor arrived on the coast.
When leaving on Monday morning I gave Mrs.
Chaulk the little butter I had for my journey, knowing
that I could get more that day at Rigolet. But whether
I did or not she must have the butter for she needed it
worse than I did.
On our way to Rigolet we called at Carawalla, the
home of several Eskimo families. After having prayer
in one of the homes and baptizing a baby we proceeded
to Rigolet, arriving at 4 p.m.
154
FROM MUD LAKE TO TICKERALUK
Mr. Fraser, the agent, was away at Cartwright, but
I received a hearty welcome from the two clerks, Par-
sons and Carson. We had a nice little service there
that night. Mr. Carson had been a member of a choir
in Montreal for several years, and his splendid singing
gave a brightness to the service.
The next morning I bought some nourishment for
Mrs. Andrew Chaulk, which Fred was to take to her,
and proceeded to Ticker aluk.
155
CHAPTER XIX.
IN THE MIDST OF POVERTY.
I arranged with Jerry Flowers to take me as far as
Ratler's Bight and back. The people all along this sec-
tion were, and I suppose are now, in poverty. The going
was excellent and after a rapid ride of fifteen miles the
dogs made a sudden stop before the open door of Arthur
Rich's hut.
Arthur was then an old man; he had been married
three times and his little cabin was now nearly full of
small and helpless children, the children of his third and
young wife. They were all too young to work, and
only for Edwin Oliver, an adopted son, it was diffi-
cult to see how the family could escape utter starva-
tion. Edwin was a loyal and faithful boy and stood by
his foster father.
A few miles farther brought us to Bluff Head, where
we were welcomed by the two Oliver families, Job and
John. Both had large families and both were in ex-
treme poverty. Mrs. Job was very ill, the house was
cold, warm clothing was scarce, the children were
almost naked, and altogether the prospect was dark,
gloomy and dismal.
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A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
Bluff Head is a cold and rugged headland, washed by
the ever-rolling seas of the Atlantic. Passing around
the head you run into a little cove where the two families
live in little log-cabins. The unsheltered place is con-
tinually swept by more or less blinding snowstorms.
As I looked into the haggard faces of that poor, sick
woman and the half-clad and more than half-starving chil-
dren, I thought what a miserable existence these people
have to endure. What is more heartrending than the
wail of half-starving children, crying for bread and no
bread to give them! The men, hoping to enrich their
scanty larder, spent most of their time around the head-
lands in search of gulls that perchance might fly that
way. Their search was too often fruitless.
After praying with the families and giving what words
of comfort, consolation and advice we could, we left in
the beginning of a snowstorm for Charles Allen's,
Ratler's Bight, where we arrived an hour later, before
the storm had reached its height.
Charles Allen was better off than any other man on
my mission, north of Tickeraluk. His fish- trap brought
him in a fairly good harvest every year, and this saved
him from that poverty-stricken condition the common
lot of his neighbours.
Joseph Lloyd, Charles' brother-in-law, who had lost
his wife a few months previously, was living with him.
This gave me the privilege of conversing with the only
158
IN THE MIDST OF POVERTY
two remaining Englishmen in Hamilton Inlet, a priv-
ilege which I appreciated very much as the conversa-
tion took my mind away from the ice-bound coast and
rugged headlands of Labrador.
The storm lasted nearly three days, during which
time one dare not trust himself fifty yards from the
house. On the second day some members of the family
were suddenly taken ill with headache and vomiting,
followed by a slight delirium tremens.
The next day nearly all the remaining members of the
family were taken down, among whom was Charles
himself. Charles was rather nervous and his groans,
made - worse by the raging storm without, cast
a gloom over the whole house. Once he sprang
suddenly to his feet, holding his head tightly with his
hands and walking the floor like a man half-crazed,
exclaimed: "I have a machine up in my head and I
am sure it is going to break down."
On our return trip to Tickeraluk we were to visit those
families who had settled inland about a couple of miles,
as we had visited those by the sea-shore on our out-
ward trip. The storm abated a little in the afternoon,
so I decided to make a start for Tom Oliver's, whose
home was four miles distant.
The storm, which had slackened a great deal, was still
almost blinding, and as we shot out from the trees on the
bight I could not see how Jerry was going to find the
159
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
hut ; he thought, however, he could do it, so I consented
to let him try ; in a few minutes the eager dogs were at
Oliver's door.
I find in my diary the following entry concerning Tom
Oliver and his condition at this time:
"Tom Oliver is in a poor condition. He has only a
half-barrel of flour and a little tea, no butter, no mo-
lasses and no prospect of getting even a little flour
when that is done, unless someone should take pity on
him. Few, however, are in a position to help, as most
of the people find it as much as they can do to provide
for themselves and families.
"Mr. Oliver was denied everything at Rigolet on the
ground that he did not take the work offered him. He
said he was not able to do the work required, which
was to build a flat-bottomed boat. He is ill and not
able to work hard, and who can do so on dry bread and
raw tea? Let those who mourn with plenty learn a lesson
here. May the Lord send them some help is my prayer.
Mrs. Oliver is a native of Newfoundland and is to be
pitied as no doubt she has seen better days."
The condition of this family was certainly a sad one.
Were they placed in a settled community and surrounded
by friends their case would not call for more sympathy
than thousands of others. But placed as they were on
the isolated and inhospitable coast of Labrador, with
their next door neighbours miles away, most of them
160
IN THE MIDST OF POVERTY
too poor to lend assistance and with no relief from the
agent at Rigolet (the only store within a hundred miles),
surely their sad condition would touch the heart of any
humane person.
Having no food with me on this trip I had to share
the fate of these poor people. When one considered
that this was only January and that they had a long
winter yet before them, it seemed to me that life
for them was a misfortune and to be relieved from
it would be a great blessing. It was a desperate strug-
gle for existence. Practically all the comforts derived
from material things, medical aid and social surround-
ings were denied them.
As I write, Oliver's little log-hut nestled among the
trees in Labrador looms up before me and I see again
the father and mother almost too weak to stand, with
their two children, sitting around their rustic table try-
ing to satisfy their appetites on a bit of dry bread.
It was a most beautiful night and no trace of the
storm could be seen, the sky was clear, the moon was
shining brightly in the heavens and all the snow that
had fallen the last few days had disappeared among
the trees.
Widow Newell's hut was just a mile across the pond,
so taking one of Tom's children I decided to visit her
that night. It was 8 o'clock when I knocked at her
door. She was half-afraid to answer the knock as
L 161
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
visitors were so unusual. As she opened the door the
moon shone upon her dirty face.
"Is dat you, Mr. Young, wer ded you come from dis
hour of the night? Come in."
What a hovel they were living in! The hut was
almost as dark as a dungeon ; there were only two panes
of glass to let in the moonlight. The hut was cold,
dirty and smoky. The smoke from the cod-oil lamp
had tanned everything even, Selina's face, and soap,
like every other commodity, was very scarce. The
roof of the hut was covered with boughs, rinds and
sods; the cold, piercing wind came in through all parts
of the building and what it means to live and sleep in
such a hut situated in the cold north can only be
imagined.
A "stage lamp" in which were a few spoonfuls of
cod-oil was the only light they had. The wick was too
short to reach the oil, and Selina sat by the table shak-
ing the lamp and hooking up the wick so that her son
vSteve and John White might see to finish their scanty
meal. I could just make out the two black objects
sitting at the table. Steve said to me:
"Well ya come and 'ave some supper, Mr. Young?"
I was glad to be able to answer him in the negative.
The people of Labrador in spite of their poverty are
extremely hospitable.
Steve was at Rigolet a few days before my visit and
got a half-barrel of flour and a few other absolutely
162
IN THE MIDST OF POVERTY
necessary things, on the promise that he would chop
twenty-five oars for the Company. Mrs. Newell's hus-
band had passed away four years before and Steve, a
young man of twenty, was the only support of a family
of six. But in spite of the dirt, smoke, cold and poverty
she seemed to be comparatively happy. Happiness is
surely not entirely dependent on wealth and prosperity.
As Selina trimmed the lamp I read and prayed with
the family, after which I went out under the starry
heavens never to see any of them again till we meet
where there shall be no more poverty or pain and where
every person shall get his due reward.
John White is too interesting a character to dismiss
with only a passing notice. John was now forty years of
age and had never married. He lived for six months
in the year, alone, in an old shanty at a place called,
Double Brook, about six miles from Tickeraluk. Dur-
ing the summer he caught salmon and trout which
enabled him to purchase food enough to stand till
December.
When his little supply of food was gone he began his
winter travels from Double Brook to Horse Harbour.
He travelled very slowly, remaining at each hut as
long as his conscience would allow him or until he saw
that he was not wanted (but John was very slow to see
that), then he would proceed to the next hut. In this
way the trip was lengthened out sometimes to two
w, 163
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
months, which meant for John two months of free diet.
He did not mind if a storm kept him at a hut a week
or two over his allotted time as long as he could beg
plenty of tobacco from his host. He was considered
a little daft by the people on the coast, but was
always cute enough to keep a plug of tobacco in the
corner of his pocket while he put a small bit in his
mouth, hoping to touch a sympathetic chord in his
neighbour's heart and so add another plug to his stock.
With him generally came a dog or two looking as
famished as himself. Several times he got caught in
those awful blizzards that so frequently sweep the
coast in winter, and once or twice barely escaped
with his life.
One day Charles Allen and John had a most trying
experience. They were caught in a blinding snowstorm
on the unsheltered, barren headlands, only two miles
from a neighbour's hut. They burrowed a hole in the
snow for themselves and dogs with the aid of their
sheath knives and snow-shoes, and there lay till the
storm abated. Thus they passed the long and dreary
night without freezing or suffering much from the cold.
The next morning they crawled out of their "igloo"
and attempted to reach the nearest hut. But after
travelling a few yards they were forced to abandon the
idea and not being able to return they had to burrow
another hole in the snowbank to afford shelter for an-
other night.
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IN THE MIDST OF POVERTY
The sheath-knife was lost and Charles now began
cutting off the crust with his pocket-knife. He ordered
John to begin digging; John, however, was too cold
and exhausted to do anything and stood shivering while
Charles did the work. He then threw John in and a
couple of dogs with him and buried him up. It was a
hard thing to bury a man alive, but that was the most
merciful thing to do with him just then. It might be
John's coffin and it might not, he thought. Charles
then dug a hole for himself in which he remained till
the following morning. At dawn he crawled out. By
this time the wind had ceased and the sky had cleared
beautifully. On looking around the only thing he saw
was a dog's tail sticking up through the snow. Taking
hold of the tail to pull the hungry dog out, as he thought,
to his surprise he found only a tail, the dog had dis-
appeared. Charles' hounds driven by starvation had
killed John's during the night and eaten it, leaving
nothing but the tail.
After some digging Charles discovered John, who,
after spending practically forty-eight hours buried in
the snow, was still sleeping away as soundly and com-
fortably as if his tired head were resting on a downy
pillow. On being called he opened his eyes in amaze-
ment as one awakened after an hour's slumber.
Charles lifted him up but he was unable to stand;
Charles made a dash for the hut and an hour later a
165
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
team of Eskimo dogs stopped by the apparently lifeless
body of John White.
He was taken to the nearest hut and soon a warm fire
and hot tea restored him. But the toes of one of his
feet were so badly frost-bitten that their amputation
was necessary. The nearest doctor was at Battle Har-
bour, three hundred miles farther south, and the critical
task of cutting off the frozen toes was accomplished by
an inexperienced man, whose only surgical instrument
was a razor.
John suffered a great deal before his foot was well.
However, he still continues his winter travels, and some-
times with almost similar experiences. Not so many
years ago he was caught again in one of those dreaded
storms and after wandering for hours he lighted upon
an old, uninhabited shack that was full of snow and
ice, where he lay and slept till the storm abated. As a
consequence he contracted a cold which came very
nearly costing him his life. The people on the coast say
he will end his days in one of those storms, which he
does not seem to have the genius to avoid.
I went back to Tickeraluk on January 26th, not much
worse for the trip, but surely with a broader knowledge
of the poverty-stricken people of Labrador, and with a
deeper sympathy for the unfortunates of mankind.
166
CHAPTER XX.
AT PARADISE AGAIN.
On Monday, January 30th, we left Tickeraluk for
Paradise. After spending some time at William Mug-
ford's we went as far as Flatwaters, calling in at Tinker
Harbour on the way. The people on this side of the bay
were as poverty-stricken as those on the north side,
but a detailed description here is unnecessary. I^et us,
however, in passing, look into the home of Mrs. Thomas
Pottle at Plant's Bight. The hut was built by
the side of a hill. After sliding down over the bank I
had to stoop considerably to get through the low door.
Mrs. Pottle was sitting at the table, but owing to the
smoke in the hut and the effect of the sun upon my
eyes, I could scarcely make her out at first. In a few
moments I saw the old lady's wondering eyes looking
up into mine. I told her who I was and she offered me
a box on which to sit and rest.
The roof of the hut was made of rinds and the snow
had weighed it down about two feet. It looked as if it
might fall any moment. A rug which constituted their
entire stock of bed-clothes was hanging on a line behind
167
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
the stove. There was not a bed of any kind in the
one-roomed cabin. It was always a puzzle to me how
these poor people escape from perishing during the long,
cold, winter nights. All she had to offer us to eat was
a bit of bread, but her son had gone to Cartwright which
was thirty miles distant to get a pound of tea. No
doubt Mr. Swaffield gave it to him.
What these people need is someone to teach them
how to help themselves and to arouse in them a spirit
of self-respect and independence. Dr. Grenfell has
done excellent work along this line for the people on
the north coast of Newfoundland and Southern Labra-
dor, but little has been done to bring the people of
Hamilton Inlet and Sandwich Bay out of the "old rut."
Thursday we arrived at Cape Porcupine in a snow-
storm. As usual I held a little service. Jerry decided
to go back and I engaged George Davis to take me to
Paradise. Despite the heavy fall of snow we reached
Cartwright Friday afternoon and Saturday morning we
started for Paradise, hoping to reach it that night.
But owing to the heavy fall of snow we made slow pro-
gress and just at dusk we found ourselves still seven
miles from Paradise and too tired to proceed farther.
Arriving at Red Island we spent Sunday with the two
Church of England families of this little settlement.
We found a poor sufferer at this place with her joints
all thrown out of place with rheumatism. She had been
a terrible sufferer for many years. It was a sad sight
168
AT PARADISE AGAIN
to see this poor woman with no means of relief within
reach. I often wished I had the skill of a physician
when coming in contact with sickness and suffering.
Perhaps there was no cure for this woman, but what we
need in Labrador is a medical missionary. Such a man
could prevent and alleviate a great deal of the suffering.
The people on our extensive mission are out of the reach
of the Deep Sea Mission doctor, and most of them sel-
dom if ever see a medical man.
I gave the people two services on Sunday. They
were visited once or twice a year by the Anglican mis-
sionary at Battle Harbour. Monday at noon -we
arrived at Paradise and received a hearty welcome from
the generous people of that place.
I remained at Paradise two months, preaching twice
on Sundays and holding two week-night meetings each
week. A deep interest was taken in those meetings and
great good done. Soon we began to have conversions
and several more of the people of this place were brought
into the conscious assurance of their acceptance with
God.
It was at this time that my appetite almost failed me.
After nearly two years my stomach stubbornly rebelled
against the Labrador diet and but for the fact that I
secured twenty-two pounds of venison from Charlie
Pardy, a young man of the place, who was fortunate
enough to kill a caribou, I am afraid I should have
nearly starved. Scurvy, too, troubled me somewhat.
169
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
Rev. Mr. Gardiner, Anglican clergyman of Battle
Harbour, visited Paradise at this time. He spent many
years on the coast and was a faithful and conscientious
worker. Like a true hero, unnoticed by the world, he
wore himself out in the service of the Master among
the needy people on the isolated coast of Labrador-
Some years after this, owing to failing health, he was
forced to leave.
The Doctor to the Deep Sea Mission stationed at
Battle Harbour also visited Paradise late in March.
The people thought that they were highly favored,
having received a visit from a clergyman and a doctor
all in one month.
I had made up my mind to travel along the coast as
far as Red Bay, a distance of two hundred and fifty
miles, and take the mail-steamer there in May for New-
foundland.
I arranged with Charles Davis, of Goose Cove, to
drive me there and to start on the first of April.
On the preceding day Davis arrived at Paradise with
the discouraging news that his dogs were taken down
with some strange sickness and consequently he could
not take me on my journey. I resolved, however, to
go with him as far as his home at Goose Cove and work
my way along the coast the best way I could.
That night I preached my farewell sermon at Paradise
and next morning I started on my long, homeward
journey.
170
CHAPTER XXI.
AROUND THE COAST ON KOMATIK
On my way to Cartwright, James Davis, who accom-
panied us there, promised to take me as far as Seal Is-
lands, half the distance to Battle Harbour, and so we
arranged for him to meet me at Goose Cove within two
or three days. We had a little service at Cartwright
that night and the next day proceeded to Goose Cove.
I was not there long before I heard the howling of
Eskimo dogs outside which indicated that a new team
of dogs had arrived. On opening the door my friend
James walked in and informed me that he could not
fulfil his promise as his wife was not feeling well.
"So," he said, "I must now get back again to my
little family."
This was very disappointing but I determined to
continue on my journey to Red Bay. To walk was out
of the question; for I had to take with me my sleeping-
bag, some good clothes to wear at Red Bay and St.
John's, and also my second year's course of books, as I
had to write my papers in the city. I hoped to have a
month's study at Red Bay.
171
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
The following day Charles Davis drove me as far as
Otter Brook and the next day John Davis put me along
to Sand Hill. This was the most southern end of
Hamilton Inlet Mission, while south of this was Church
of England territory. I did not know the people along
the coast as I had never visited south of Sand Hill.
But I felt sure Mr. Gardiner's people would not see me
stuck.
At Sand Hill all the men were away. I said to the
woman of the house, "Is there no way for me to get
along?"
"There is a young man yer, " she replied, "from
Salmon Point, and he is just going back."
I embraced the opportunity and went on with the
boy. For fifteen miles we travelled at a rapid pace.
The dogs were in good condition and though it looked
as if a blizzard would soon sweep along the barren hills
over which we were travelling we hoped to reach Salmon
Point before it intercepted us. This was my birthday
and my mind reverted to the experience of the previous
birthday in Labrador, recorded in another chapter.
Within two or three miles of the little settlement the
storm broke upon us. But thanks to my guide and a
kind Providence we reached safety before the storm had
reached its height.
I went to the home of Mr. George Parr and found him
in a very sad condition. His wife had died four years
172
(a) Ready for our trip by Komatik and Dog- train.
(b) A Typical Eskimo Dog. This Dog having Killed a Child was Destroyed.
(c) A Stack of Wood, the only Fuel Available in Labrador.
AROUND" THE COAST ON KOMATIK
previously, and his only daughter was now lying dead
in the house. The raging of the storm without only
added to the gloom and sadness of the occasion. I tried
to cheer the heart of the sorrowing father, who was glad
that I had come. He was now left alone on the rugged
coast without wife or daughter and he naturally felt
it very keenly. The following day, Sunday, as the
storm had in part spent itself, we laid to rest the body of
the young woman.
On Monday a young man from Salmon Point drove
me to Seal Islands, and next day a young man from the
latter place drove me another twenty-five miles, which
brought me as far as Venison Tickle. Thus I was getting
along the coast quite nicely, and without much difficulty.
The people were very kind and obliging.
At Venison Tickle I found an old Englishman, who
had spent forty years in Labrador, dying with cancer in
the throat. It was a real privilege to give the dying
man a word of comfort and he was glad to see a preacher,
though I did not belong to his church. In the face of
death we are not particular about the name of the church ;
as long as the soul is blessed, what does it matter who
brings the message?
The next day James Green, a young man, drove me
to Sung Harbour where only two families resided. The
dogs around the doors of the houses were numerous,
however, and I suspected that I would have no trouble
in getting to the next harbour.
173
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
I told one of the men who I was, but all the men de-
clined to have anything to do with me. They would
not ask me into their houses and absolutely refused to
take me to the next settlement. I could not under-
stand it for I had never received any treatment like
that during my whole term on the coast. The people
of Labrador are very respectful to all clergymen. Green
would not go any further with me, and if I left all my
stuff I could not find my way along alone.
It was twenty miles to William's Harbour and I
tried my best to prevail on one of the men to take me
there; I exhausted all my ingenuity and failed. I was
stranded on an inhospitable coast. What could I do?
"Well, now," I said to one man, coaxingly, "for what
will you take me to William's Harbour?" I was willing
to pay almost anything in reason.
"Well, der, " he replied, "give me a hundred dollars,
and I'll tek yah."
The poor missionary could not pay that amount and
I saw it was useless to try to persuade them any longer
and I gave up in despair. There I was upon the bank
yonder as helpless and as cornered as ever I had been
in my life. Would not the kind Lord touch their hard
hearts?
Looking around I saw an old man approaching me.
He was walking fast and looked very excited. I won-
dered what it meant. Was he going to drive me off
his premises? Stepping up by me, he said:
174
AROUND THE COAST ON KOMATIK
"You is the min'ter from Hamilton Inlet, is yah?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Well, well. I am sarry; I t'ought you was a run-
away from the mell in Hamilton Inlet. Two are free
o' dem passed yer th' edder day, and I t'ought you was
anudder of dem. Come in th' 'ouse and stay tonight,
and you '11 git on to William's Harbour to mar, and it
won't cos' yah a cent ider.
As these words left the old man's lips a great burden
rolled from my heart, and I do not think I ever felt
lighter hearted. The family now could not show me
enough kindness and I admired them for the respect
they had for a preacher of the gospel.
But my troubles were not all over; if the people were
reconciled to me the dogs were not. As I entered
the porch one of the great wolf-hounds began to show
his teeth and snarl. Being accustomed to dogs I did
not mind it much, but I ventured too near and he flew
at me, and in a moment the whole savage pack was after
me. I ran towards the other house and met the team
from there. I gave a loud screech which brought all the
folk there to my rescue and prevented the mad dogs
from biting. I knew if they once got the taste of blood
they would not stop till there was nothing left of me but
bones. The woman living in the house to which I
was running said to me after it was all over and the dogs
had slunk away: "Our dogs was not goin' to hurt yah,
sir; they was only goin' to tek yer part."
175
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
Yes, I thought, they meant to take my part, and a
big part. You can never trust Eskimo dogs, even though
you may be well used to them. Once they get the taste
of blood there is no getting them away by stick, stone
or whip.
I gave a sigh of relief the next morning when I felt
myself being carried along -at a rapid pace toward
William's Harbour. Two teams were sent, one with
myself and another with my stuff, and Mr. Ward would
not charge me a cent for it. He was accustomed to take
his own clergyman around for nothing. It is hard to
forget kindness of that kind. Indeed it remains with
one as a pleasant memory.
We arrived at William's Harbour a little before dusk.
The following day Good Friday Thomas Russell and
William Burton drove me on the komatik to Deep Water
Creek, a small place seven miles from Battle Harbour.
Here I again met Mr. Gardiner, who had not yet got
back to his headquarters.
We had a splendid little service that night at the
Creek, and the next day being Sunday, Mr. Gardiner
and I divided the services between the small places
near by. Monday I crossed to Battle Harbour with
him in a boat manned by a large crew of hearty fisher-
men.
vStill fifty miles lay between me and Red Bay. After
several days' wait an opportunity of getting along came
176
AROUND THE COAST ON KOMATIK
and a hard day's row against a heavy wind with a
crowd of brave young fellows brought me to Henley
Harbour.
Early the following morning, 29th of April, we started
on komatik for Red Bay. We were now getting up in
the Straits, and just across the way there loomed up
before me the island of Newfoundland. It was not
quite two years, it was true, since I saw it last, but never-
theless I felt something swelling up in my throat.
"Breathes there a man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said:
This is my own, my native land.
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned,
As home his footsteps he hath turned,
From wandering on a foreign strand!"
At dusk we shot down over the hill and into the
basin of the comfortable little settlement of Red Bay,
and I alighted from the komatik, feeling rather sorry
that my journeyings on the coast were over.
177
CHAPTER XXII.
FAREWELL TO THE RUGGED COAST
At Red Bay there is a strong Methodist cause, and Mr.
Grimes, who was then stationed there, and I were the
only two Methodist missionaries on the extensive
Labrador coast. Our stations were four hundred
miles apart, and it was impossible to do anything like
satisfactory work among the scattered people along a
coast of about seven hundred miles.
Mr. Grimes was away on another part of his mission*
and it was several days before he returned. How glad
we were to meet each other ! It was late when we retired
that night. We both felt the truth of the wise man's
words: "Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth
the countenance of his friend."
I had met, and just for a few minutes, during the two
years on the coast, only two Methodist ministers one
from the States, and the other the late Dr. Withrow of
Toronto, who were making a round trip on the mail-
steamer.
Mr. Grimes and I spent a happy time together. The
mail-steamer was late in coming that year, and I had
179
A METHODIST MISSIONARY IN LABRADOR
<ix weeks of uninterrupted study. On the llth of June
the mail -steamer arrived at Red Bay, and with some
feelings of regret, I bade farewell to the rugged coast.
Two solitary Methodist missionaries and two Angli-
can missionaries are still labouring on the extensive
coast, striving to bring the simple message of the Gospel
of Christ to the hearts of the simple and needy folk
there. Let us breathe an occasional prayer that the
blessing of God may rest upon them, their people and
their work.
" It is the way the Master went ;
Should not the servant tread it still?"
180
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